My Saving Grace
by Princess Dystopia
Summary: What would you do to save the life of the person you love? Would you take a chance, risking everything you had left? Or would you give up? Harper, a pampered, spoiled survivor must make a choice: risk her life and fight for Daryl Dixon's or give up and became a victim to fate - a victim to the threat of walkers? [Prior Title: "The Mess We've Made"]Rated M for language/sexual themes
1. Prologue

What would you do to save the life of someone you love? Please tell me because I'm running out of time. He's only five feet away from me, but his eyes won't open no matter how many times I call his name.

Blood trickles from his mouth and drips onto the concrete floor. If his chest wasn't rising and falling, I would assume he's dead. And if that were the case…

"Daryl!" My voice is hardly more than a hoarse crack. I've been screaming for him so much that I've forgotten about my own health.

My focus attaches onto the gun on the other side of flimsy fence. The walkers step on it, around it, over it, paying no attention to it. The chains rattle loud enough that I know it will draw more of those creatures in.

I stumble and fall, taking Daryl's rough, cracked fingers in mine. I let out a hysterical, pathetic chuckle. These hands that circle perfectly around mine were the sole reason I felt safe – felt strong enough to keep fighting. They gave me hope that the world couldn't stay this way forever and that someday on a perfect paradise island, I would take these hands in mine – wrinkled and worn – and smile at the man I survived the end of the world and grew old with.

But now, mine tremble around his. I'm scared – no, I'm terrified.

"Daryl, please," I beg, staring at the walkers separated by only a chain-link fence. "Please, open your eyes. I don't know what to do."

So, what would you do to save the life of someone you love? Would you take a chance and fight through the walkers for the gun? Or would you see the world as I used to and let the walkers eat away at what's left of you?

Because let's face it: even death is better than living through his hell.


	2. A Week

"Come on, Harper! This is a really bad time to screw up your ankle!"

Glaring at my sister, I grabbed a rock and chucked it behind me. Whoever said that adrenaline gave you better aim lied. The rock flew past the dead's head, hitting the tree just behind it. The moaning creature settled his bleached eyes on us as Adeline grabbed onto my shoulders. I yelped in pain as she pulled me into my feet, forcing me to limp as fast as she ran.

"Wait, wait!" I shrieked, forcing her to a stop. "God damn it, Adeline! At least help me limp to the fucking road or something!"

Her hazel eyes rolled to the back of her head and I resisted the urge to slap her. She knew I hated when she did that. Her slender arm hooked around my waist. She grunted as I allowed my body weight to fall into her.

"Come on, come on," she hissed as we stumbled over fallen trees, animal carcasses, and scattered rocks. I bit my lower lip, trying to direct the pain from my ankle to my face. Of course it wouldn't work. What was I thinking?

A gunshot sounded in the distance. Adeline and I screamed and fell to the ground, covering our ears with our hands. I watched her, looking for any signs that she had been shot. She seemed to be doing the same, so when we met panicked stares, a wave of relief flooded over me.

Gurgling groans ceased and the sound of a heavy thump forced us to turn to look at the direction we came. The dead had fallen, its head splattered in an explosion of blood, bone, and flesh on a rock nearby.

The heavy sound of my heartbeat in my ears drowned out my sister's yelling. I knew her lips were forming the words, "Come on, we have to get out of here!" I couldn't hear her, though. My adrenaline seemed to finally start kicking in.

The forest swirled around me. A buzz filled my head. One tree suddenly formed into two. Adeline's face became distorted, her eyes floating further apart and her chin drooping to her chest. I heard shouts and watched as her eyes flicked up. Her arms, swirling flabs of skin, waved frantically in the air.

"Help!" she called, her voice much lower than I was used to hearing. "Please, help us!"

We became surrounded, guns pointed in our face. I let my head drop to the ground as the tip of a bolt pointed dangerously close to my nose.

"Please, help us…"

o-o-o

"Was she bitten?"

"No, I'm telling you, she probably broke her ankle or something!"

"Are you sure she wasn't bitten or scratched?!"

"YES! Are you people deaf or something?!"

My head lulled to the side. Through my clouded vision, I could make out Adeline's figure sitting at a makeshift table. Two more figures were in the room, one perched on the chair of another table and the other standing near a barred door just opposite the room where I lay.

"Is it just the two of you?"

"Yeah. Has been for a few weeks."

I let out a pitiful groan, closing my eyes tightly. A dull headache throbbed and my ankle, though restrained against something solid, felt as if it were on fire. The one who remained silent strolled toward me, stopping just above me. I recognized him from the other side of the crossbow.

"She's awake," he announced, glancing over his shoulder.

Adeline stood and kneeled beside me. The more I blinked the grogginess away, the more I realized how much more pristine she looked. Almost like none of this had ever happened. Her golden hair had been brushed and possibly washed, the dirt had been cleaned from her face, and hunger no longer invaded her gaze. She smiled and took my hand. She had brushed her teeth recently. Thank God.

"I'm so glad you're awake," she whispered, tears brimming her eyes. "I wasn't sure you'd ever wake up."

"I just twisted my ankle," I replied. "It wasn't like I was stabbed in the chest or anything."

"In the world now, you never know what can kill you," the man behind us said. It had been the same person she was discussing my health with. He stood from his seat, but made no advancement toward us.

"Who are you?" I asked, staring at the rifle on his back.

"Doesn't matter," he answered. He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, once your ankle is healed, we'll give you a few supplies and have you on your way."

His words hit me like a rock. On our way? Back out there? No way. Absolutely not.

Before I had a chance to protest, the barred door creaked open. A brunette woman, obviously pregnant, entered the room, her hand resting on her belly. "Rick, Hershel needs to talk with you."

Rick, the man who I wanted to argue with, sighed in frustration. As he walked toward the woman, he whispered to the other man, "Deryl, keep an eye on them. If they try anything, do what you need to do."

"Got it."

The door slammed shut, creating a painful echo all around us. I winced as I covered my ears with the flat pillow I'd been sleeping on.

Adeline shook her head and stood, sitting back at her original seat. Daryl leaned against the wall, snatching his crossbow in his hands. I watched him from under the pillow. He lifted his weapon, looked through the sights, and lowered it again. His arms made me come to the conclusion that he was familiar with dangerous item in his hands.

"So, that's what you do, huh?" Adeline muttered. She held her head in her hands, her elbows propped on the table's surface. "That's what you people do."

"What?" Daryl questioned, though his tone sounded uninterested. He seemed more focused on his weapon than anything else.

"Kidnap people, fix them up, then turn them back. That's sick."

"Kidnap you, huh?" He gave a sarcastic smirk. "Yeah, okay. If that's what ya'll call it. Doesn't matter to me."

"Stop it," I told her. "Just stop it. I really don't want to hear your voice right now." I glared toward Daryl. "Or yours, for that matter."

He shrugged. "You could always leave. You won't have to hear it that way."

The three of us sat in awkward silence for more than I would've liked. Adeline finally stood and bent backwards. The popping of her back made both Daryl and I cringe. Another one of her annoying habits that made me want to slap her.

The barred door opened once again and an older, white-haired man hobbled in with the support of crutches. He nodded to Daryl and Adeline, who returned with a deadly glare, and proceeded toward me.

"What happened?" I blurted out, jutting my chin toward his missing leg.

"Got bit by a walker," he muttered disdainfully.

I let out a bitter chuckle. "Walker? Is that what you people call them?"

"What do you call them then?" Daryl demanded to know.

"Exactly what they are: zombies."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes before squinting down the sights of his crossbow again. "This ain't no video game."

The older man cleared his throat. "My name is Hershel. I just wanted to see how your ankle was. I didn't see any signs that you broke the bone, but you definitely twisted it. I'd say give it a week and you'll be fine."

I nodded, forcing a small smile onto my face. A week. That's all the time we had in this place of safety, wherever it was. Where there was food, a roof over our heads, and a place to sleep peacefully.

As I looked toward Adeline, she shook her head and turned her back to me, placing her hands on her hips. She knew just as well as I did that once that week was over, we'd be as good as dead.

A week.


	3. Back-Assward Redneck

"And how do we know these people are okay to live with?" Adeline whispered. We had learned that in this small room, our voices carried into the adjoining cell block. "I mean, they could be cannibals for all we know."

I shook my head, running my fingers though my grimy blonde hair. "I think they're okay. I mean, they fixed my ankle for the most part and they've shared what little food they have." I stared around, my gaze lingering on the dirty sheets and pillows that had been provided for us.

The room Adeline and I had been locked in for the past day and a half must've been a common room in a prison. I shuddered. Prison was a place I never thought I would spend even a second of my life in, but here we were, held up in here for protection from the outside world. How ironic.

"Sure, they're okay now," Adeline argued, wrapping her arms around herself defensively. "Later, though. Maybe tomorrow they'll attack and eat us like the zombies do."

I rolled my eyes as I used one of the tables to pull myself up. I stood, putting on my weight onto my good ankle. "There's a pregnant lady, for Christ's sake. I highly doubt she's feeding her baby human meat."

"Hey, Barbie doll."

The voice caused a jolt of surprise to shudder throughout my body. I gasped and, without thinking, pressed my foot onto the floor. I hissed in pain, falling to the hard concrete floor to hold my foot in my hands.

"Did you really have to yell?!" I snapped at Daryl. He leaned against the barred door, his arms lazily resting on the center horizontal divider.

"Well, if ya'll hadn't been whispering this whole damn time, I wouldn't have scared you," he rebuked, giving me a bored stare.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Adeline shake her head. A laugh stopped in my throat. I coughed to clear it away. "'Ya'll'?" I repeated. "Oh, I get it. You're one of those back-assward rednecks, aren't you? I'd bet your mom is your auntie too, huh?"

"Harper!" Adeline screeched. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Daryl licked his bottom lip as he lifted his middle finger in my direction. Without another word, he pushed himself from the bars and disappeared into the cell block.

My sister advanced toward me, yanking me up from my armpit. "Seriously?!" she hissed, spittle flying onto my face. "You do realize he saved your ungrateful ass, right? These people are helping us and you're treating them, especially Daryl, like shit."

I yanked my arm from her grasp and sat back onto the seat behind me. "You're the one who didn't trust them five seconds ago. I was testing him, you know? Trying to see if he'd kill me for saying something like that."

Her eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare, but before she could argue with me, the barred doors squealed open. Expecting Daryl again, I opened my mouth to shout out some more insults, but when Hershel hobbled in, my mouth instantly clamped shut. There was no way I could say anything like that to this man.

"Now, I understand Daryl isn't welcome around you two," he began, looking at each of us for an explanation.

"Just her," Adeline admitted and nodded in my direction. "I'm fine with him, really. I apologize for her."

"He was coming to see if you two needed anything…personal. Some of the group is going on a run."

"Personal?" I asked. "And what is a run?"

"A run is a trip into the nearest town to gather supplies. I meant personal as in…well, tampons and anything of the like."

Adeline's face looked as flushed as mine felt. I watched her, waiting for her to reply to him. I was too embarrassed to say anything.

"Yes," she finally choked out. "Tampons would be great. Thank you."

Hershel nodded and disappeared just the same way Daryl did.

o-o-o

"How long do runs usually take?" I asked the pregnant woman who had introduced herself as Lori a few hours before. She gave me a small smile, absentmindedly rubbing a hand over her belly.

"Depends on if they find anything," she answered, standing on her toes to peek over into the top bunk of the bed Adeline and I would be sharing. "Could be a few hours or maybe a day or two."

I patted the mattress, which was much more comfortable than the floor we'd slept on. The cell we were given was insignificant, but I was thankful for it. After a thorough pat-down to make sure we didn't carry any weapons on us, we were allowed into the cell block.

"This is just for safety precaution," Lori had explained as I stood naked in front of her. She had made sure that the area was completely blocked off from eyes other than her own as she searched me.

"I understand," I had replied, staring at her stomach. "I would act the same if I was expecting."

Adeline poked her head out from around the corner. She smirked at me as she messed my hair with her hand. "You were right – everyone's friendly. Although, I can't speak for your back-assward friend when he gets back."

Guilt hit me harder than I thought it would. Lori chuckled mostly to herself before muttering, "Daryl is Daryl. He doesn't waste his time staying mad over petty arguments with a…what did he call you?"

"A Barbie doll," I answered. The laugh that escaped my mouth surprised even me. "I don't look like a Barbie doll, do I?"

"You kind of do," they replied simultaneously.

o-o-o

"So, what's your story?" Carl asked. All the eyes on us – Carl, Lori, Carol, T-Dog, Beth, and Hershel – made me feel almost like I was being interviewed. And the fact that a 14-year-old boy was the interviewer didn't help my feelings.

"Um," I muttered, looking to Adeline for help. We sat around the tables in the common room. Carol and Lori had cooked some sort of concoction that consisted of meat (?) and potatoes (?). Whatever it was, it tasted amazing.

"Before or after all this?" she asked, taking a spoonful of her food into her mouth.

"Both."

"Well, we grew up in Berkeley Lake," my sister started. "We were both homeschooled by private tutors. After we graduated high school, I went right off to college while Harper just took her time with furthering her education."

Beth's eyes widened slightly. "Berkeley Lake? You two must've been pretty wealthy then, huh?"

Adeline and I exchanged glances. "I guess you can say that," I muttered, stuffing more food into my face.

"Our father was a successful lawyer and our mother was at the top of the Wal-Mart corporations. I wouldn't say wealthy, just better off," she added.

"What did you do for work before this?"

Again, we exchanged glances.

"Wait," Carl said, holding up his hands. "You're telling us neither of you have had jobs before?"

"We didn't need to work," I answered, my cheeks growing hot. "Our parents gave us all the money we needed."

The group fell silent as we continued to eat. Part of me wondered if our upbringing would affect our new relationship with these people, but when Hershel's wrinkled face sported a smile, I knew I was wrong.

"Then I'm sure you two could learn a few things from us, just as we can learn a few things from you."

The entrance to the prison flew open and in a hurry, the people surrounding us acted. Weapons were grabbed and everyone stood in an attack stance. Even Adeline jumped to her feet, her hands doubled into tight fists.

"Tampons, right?" Daryl announced, throwing a box roughly at me. It slammed into my chest, the cardboard nicking my chin, before I caught it in my arms. He stormed past us, making his way into the cell block. A loud banging noise echoed.

As everyone relaxed, Beth's older sister, Maggie, paced toward me. She placed a heavy hand on my shoulder and gave a smile. She had a very nice smile.

"Whatever you did to piss Daryl off, I wouldn't suggest doing it again."


	4. Thank You

"I still can't believe you all cleared out this whole prison," I muttered, staring at the expansive building behind us. Carl gave me a shy grin that I could hardly see from underneath his sheriff's hat. His chubby cheeks turned pink as he nodded.

Lori gave us a small wave as she sat with Adeline on a metal bench. They had become close in the week and a half that we stayed with the group. Often times, Lori told her stories of her pregnancy with Carl. Adeline adored babies. She had always told me that she was born to have a lot of children. I believed it. She worked well with children of any age. Our family always joked that instead of becoming the crazy cat lady, she would become the crazy baby lady with a house full of baby shoes and unused diapers.

The field below concerned me at times. The dead gathered around the fences, but Rick usually sent a group of four or five people out to put them down with anything small enough to fit through the chain-link fence. Maggie, Daryl, Glenn, Beth, and Rick were the group this time. I'd asked if I could help, but Hershel said that with my ankle still healing, exerting myself like that wouldn't be the best of ideas.

I watched Daryl stab the dead with the end of a broken shovel. Since his return from the first run, he ignored me completely. Well, that isn't entirely true. If I was in his way, he'd say something along the lines of, "Get the fuck out of my way, Barbie." Every time I approached him to apologize for my behavior, he walked past me and disappeared for hours. I finally gave up. He didn't want anything from me and he made that quite obvious.

"Yeah, well, we needed a safe place. Dad and Hershel say this place is perfect," he answered. Clearing his throat, he tipped his hat to me. I couldn't help but giggle. He was a cute kid, that was for sure. Much more mature than I originally thought he would be. "I should probably… Oh, shit."

"Wha… Oh my God," I whispered, covering my mouth with my hands. I turned back toward the courtyard. A small herd of eight or nine dead sauntered toward us.

"Walkers!" Carl shouted, reaching for his gun.

Adeline's head shot up. As soon as her gaze locked on the herd, she jumped from the bench and rushed around to help Lori up. "We have to go," she whispered, motioning for Hershel, who sat sunbathing on another bench a few feet away, over to her. "Now, now, now."

Carl forced himself in front of me, creating a barrier between me and the dead. I screamed and covered my ears as bullets landed in their heads. The group down below shouted for us to run, dashing up toward us.

"Get out of there!" Daryl yelled. His shovel had been replaced with his crossbow. "Now!"

Gunshots rang out all around us. I curled in on myself, closing my eyes tightly. My breath caught painfully in my chest. I began to wheeze as I forced air in and out of my lungs.

A tight grip caught on my arm. My first reaction was to fist my fist and begin to pound away at whatever had grabbed me, but when Carol's eyes stared into mine, my fist unclenched. "Its okay," she whispered, a frightened smile planted on her face. "You're going to stay behind me and we'll be okay."

T-Dog ran past us, slamming shut a gate that the dead were beginning to force open. I opened my mouth to scream out for him, but I couldn't find my words. There was one just behind him. I held onto Carol's hand, lifting it toward him.

"No!" she shrieked just as the nagged teeth bit down into his shoulder. He cried out in pain before pushing the female dead from him. He unloaded two bullets into her brain before running toward us. I didn't hesitate to move away from him.

Through my tears, I watched as T-Dog led Carol and me through dark hallways. Our footfalls echoed loudly. A deafening alarm shot off, one that must've been used when prisoners escaped or started riots. Again, I covered my ears and slammed myself against the nearest wall, trying to block out as much as I could.

"No, honey, you can't do this, okay?" Carol frantically shouted, grabbing my arms. "We have to go now!"

I shook my head, forming silent words with my mouth. She grunted as she pulled me to her, supporting most of my weight on her own body. I unwillingly limped beside her, sobbing the entire way.

"There's a set of double doors that will lead to a corridor that will get you back to our cell block," T-Dog informed us as he ran in front.

"No, you should stop!" Carol argued, grabbing on his arm with her free hand. The man whipped around, giving her a stubborn glare.

"Why? So I can sit here and wait to die? Nuh-uh." He began stumbling along again.

"We'll do what we have to! You won't become one of those things!"

T-Dog and I knew as well as she did that that was an empty promise. Sure, you can amputate a leg to stop the infection, but as I gazed upon the bloody mess covering T-Dog's shoulder, I knew there was no way he could live without that part of his body.

"This is God's plan," T-Dog replied. "He'll take care of me. Always has, hasn't He?"

We continued on for I don't know how long. The alarm eventually became part of the background. I no longer heard it. The only thing I could focus on was Carol's heavy breathing, T-Dog's pained groans, and my hiccupping snivels.

T-Dog stopped short as we turned a sharp corner. Dead were advancing toward us, tripping over their own feet and each other. Two made it past the cluster, their lifeless eyes locked on our bodies. Carol grabbed for her gun in the pocket between the two of us and lifted it. The chamber clicked. Her hand fell back to her side.

"Shit, shit," she hissed, pulling me backward. "We have to back!"

"No! We're almost there!" T-Dog pulled tightly on her hand, dragging the both of us with him toward the dead. I cried out as loud as Carol did, but he was too strong. Had the infection already reached his brain? Was that the reason why he was doing this?

He released us only a foot away from them, wrapping both his hands around their throats. He slammed them against the wall and ordered us to run. As Carol pushed me toward the door, I stared behind. The dead bit down on T-Dog's arms, his throat, his collarbone, ripping away the flesh, breaking bones, and severing arteries as he howled in pain.

He never stopped telling us to go.

o-o-o

"I can't," Carol breathed, doubling over to try to catch her breath. The dead snarled, stalking toward us like a cat readying to attack a mouse. I gripped Carol's dagger in my palm tightly, holding her away from them.

"In there," I whispered, pointing to a slim door. The woman shoved the creaking doors open, pulling on my shirt to drag me inside. I leaned against the door as soon as we closed it, using as much body weight as I could to keep them from coming inside. Carol joined me.

Hours passed until finally, the banging stopped. The alarms fell silent. Everything was over.

We slid to the ground. I dropped the dagger onto the floor with a quiet clang. Blood covered my hands and my arms. I wasn't sure whose it belonged to. My ankle pulsed in intense pain.

Bringing my legs to my chest, I wrapped my dirty arms around them. My head fell into my arms just as tears began to fall from my eyes. Carol wrapped a secure arm around me, pulling me into her.

"You did great," she muttered exhaustedly. "Thank you."

o-o-o

I wished I had kept a watch on me. It seemed as if days passed as Carol and I sat on the tiny room together. She was too weak to stand and I was too afraid to open the door. I couldn't stand to face those monsters again.

"How long has it been?" I asked, my voice cracking. Carol only shook her head in response.

I pursed my lips and crawled toward the door. It had been my first time trying to move in probably a few days, so I didn't realize just how weak I was as well. Just as I pushed on the metal door, a sharp clanging noise echoed from the other side. The door stopped; something was blocking it.

I fell onto my stomach, trying to push whatever the object was out of the way. "Come on," I moaned pathetically.

More clanging from the other side.

I continued to try for only a few more times before a force violently pushed the door back toward me. My hand instantly came back to my side. I remained on my stomach, hoping that whatever had done it wasn't going to try to kill us.

Shuffling sounded from the hallway. The door flew open and I closed my eyes tightly.

"Holy shit."

"Daryl?" I mumbled, lifting my face from the concrete. He kneeled next to me, inspecting my hair, the blood, and my clothes before looking toward Carol. "We have to get her out of here."

"Okay," he whispered in disbelief. "Can you walk?"

I nodded, grunting as he wrapped a muscled arm around my shoulders. He lifted me onto my feet and waited for my balance to come back before taking Carol into his arms. As we walked down the corridors, I limped closely by his side. Bodies littered the floors, guts sprayed onto the walls. I cringed at every single one.

"You kill any of these?" Daryl finally asked.

"Yeah," I answered tearfully.

"You kept her safe?"

"Yeah." The tears fell once again.

"Thank you."


	5. Little Ass-Kicker

"Here," Daryl ordered, gently placing me down on lower bed in the cell that Adeline and I shared. We had dropped Carol off on her own bed a few minutes ago. As much as I had told Daryl that I was still okay to walk, he still insisted on looping his arm around my shoulders to steady my wobbly knees.

The bed creaked with my weight. I doubled over, burying my face into my hands. Everything about me felt so filthy. My clothes, my hair, my emotions. I knew that no matter how scalding hot the shower, I would feel this way for the rest of my life.

"Just…stay here, okay?" Daryl mumbled, backing from me. Before he turned the corner into the hallway, his palm slapped against the concrete wall twice.

As much as I watched to lie back on the bed and sleep, my stomach wouldn't let me. It grumbled painfully with hunger. My tongue twisted with dehydration. Another headache seemed to be creeping up on me.

Daryl returned shortly with a bottle of clear water. For a split second, I'd wondered where he had gotten it. Then I remembered it was probably from a run they had gone one while Carol and I were locked away in that tiny room.

"Drink this," he told me, waving someone in with his free hand. I gripped the bottle weakly and as I unscrewed the cap, Adeline sauntered in, tears creating lines of cleanliness on her dirt-covered face.

She let out a quick sob before kneeling in front of me, placing her forehead on my left knee. "I'm so glad," she whimpered, her shoulders trembling. "I thought you were dead."

"Almost," I croaked out before clearing my throat. I could feel my eyes roll to the back of my head in pleasure as the water splashed at the back of my throat. I'd never loved bottled water so much in my life.

Another body joined us in the cramped cell. Daryl squeezed himself near the wall to make room as Rick entered, a grateful smile planted on his face. "Harper," he started, "thank you so much for what you did for Carol. She told us that you fought off a few walkers, even though you were terrified of them."

I could only nod. Ramming the dagger into the walkers' heads was one of the worst things I ever had to do. I shuddered at the thought of their snarling mouths so close to my body as the blade pierced their skills. The cracking noise it created made my stomach churn.

"How is she?" I managed to ask through my nausea.

"She's fine," Daryl answered, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. "A little more dehydrated than you are, but she'll make it."

Rick kneeled in front of me, matching my gaze. "We all appreciate what you did for Carol, a—"

"Are you kicking us out?" I cut him off, assuming the worst. Daryl scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"No," Rick continued. "The opposite, actually. We're inviting you to join us, to make this prison a place where we can actually thrive."

Confusion struck me. I stared at Rick, then my sister, then Daryl, and back to Rick again. "I can understand if you want Adeline to stay; she knows how to shoot a gun. But I don't. I was barely even able to take down the dead with a stupid knife."

"They've offered to teach you how to shoot and defend yourself," Adeline muttered, her forehead lifting from my knee. "Well, Daryl has."

I gazed toward Daryl just in time for a baby's cry to echo throughout the building. My eyes met Rick's, but he only dropped his head. With the support of the bedframe, I lifted myself onto my feet. Adeline linked her arm with mine, helping out of the cell. Beth stood against the wall, just underneath the window, bouncing a small baby in her arms.

"Oh my God," I whispered, my hand rising to cover my mouth. "Where's Lori?"

"She didn't make it," Adeline mumbled in my ear.

As the baby quieted, Beth approached me, a soft smile planted on her cracked lips. "It's a girl," she informed me. "Daryl named her Little Ass-Kicker."

I glanced around toward the bars to the cell where Daryl and Rick stood. The redneck only shrugged. I tried my hardest not to laugh, but a small chuckle escaped.

"I'd like to see you think of something better," Daryl suggested before I had a chance to say anything.

I shook my head, my eyes locked on his. "No," I replied. "It's a good name, for now. Can't say she'll like it much when she turns twelve, though."

Something happened then. A smirk grew on Daryl's face, which caught me by complete surprise. I was used to only seeing an angry scowl. He let out an amused huff through his nose before turning to walk into the common area. Strange flutters of excitement replaced the nausea. Before I could realize it, a stupid grin became apparent on my face.

"Are you okay?" Beth asked, bringing my focus back to the baby in her arms.

"Yeah," I answered, pressing my lips to the soft skin just above the baby's left eye. "I just really like the name Little Ass-Kicker."


	6. Muzzle

"Isn't this going to waste ammo?" I questioned as I followed Daryl into the courtyard. As the man in front of me hauled gym bags full of rifles on his shoulder, I carried a Glock Nineteen. It felt so much heavier than I knew it was. I traded it between hands as they began to sweat with nervousness.

"I figured you'd be more worried 'bout the noise attractin' the walkers," he answered, pointing toward the gates surrounding the prison. Maggie and Glenn were on their way out to find formula for Little Ass-Kicker, so the other members of our group stood nearby with rusty weapons in their hands.

I made sure to keep my gun pointed at the ground. "That too, I guess," I muttered. "That's what the silencer is for, right?"

"Yep. And don't worry 'bout ammo. We'll be goin' on a run later for that. Rick says there's a sporting goods store a few miles away."

"We?" I repeated as we approached a makeshift dead that Daryl had set up. It was just a piece of rebar shoved into the ground, a snarling head placed on the top.

"When we're done here, me and you are gonna get real practice." Daryl dropped the bag and held out his hand. Without thinking, I placed mine into his. Without hesitation, his yanked his hand from mine and grabbed the gun from my other hand. "Dumbass," he muttered under his breath, loading the clip with bullets.

"Well, excuse me," I snapped, folding my arms over my chest. "You keep giving off mixed signals."

Daryl froze, giving me a confused glare. "What do you think this is? Ain't some dumb fantasy love story bullshit, that's for sure. Get your head where it needs to be or else you ain't gonna survive out here."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek so hard that I'm sure it bled. Tears of embarrassment blurred my vision before I blinked them away. Daryl held the gun toward me, but I only shook my head and took a step away.

"I can't," I said curtly.

"Just take the damn gun."

"I can't."

He sighed in frustration, racked the slide, and raised the barrel upward, closing one eye as his finger pulled the trigger. I attempted to cover my ears to block out the noise, but I hardly heard a thing. Of course, the silencer. The bullet flew past the dead's head, just barely nicking the ear.

"It ain't hard, Barbie," he grumbled. He grabbed my hand and forced my fingers open before setting the weapon in my palm. "Hold it like this." Moving around me, he formed his hands around mine to hold the gun with both hands. Behind me, he towered high above my body. I'd never realized just how much taller he was than me.

"I really can't do this, Daryl," I insisted, trying to squirm away from him. He stood his ground stubbornly. "Can I try with a shovel or a pipe or something that doesn't shoot bullets?"

Daryl pushed the gun down to my side before grabbing my shoulders roughly. He twisted me around to face him. "Either you learn how to shoot a gun, or your sister dies out there. Do you understand me?" he growled low enough that nobody around us would question anything. "You could be in a situation where you ain't got a choice but to shoot, and if you stand around cryin' about it, the people you love will die."

His words forced the tears from my eyes. I wasn't sure if they were from fear, humiliation, or self-pity. His piercing blue eyes followed the drops down my face before he backed away from me and scoffed.

"You didn't hear a damn word I just said, huh? Figured as much. You're as deaf as you are dumb."

"Are you going to teach me how to shoot a gun," I muttered darkly, wiping my face as quickly as I could, "or are you going to just make fun of me the entire time."

"Depends. Are you done cryin' about everything?"

"Fuck you, Daryl! You don't have to be such an asshole!" I screamed, jamming a finger only inches from his nose.

Daryl slapped my hand away and pointed to the gun in my other. "Stop bein' so worthless and shoot the goddamn walker!"

In an instant of rage, I lifted the gun and squinted through the sights. I yelped as I pulled the trigger. The bullet missed the head completely and the gun's recoil forced the object right back into my nose. I cried in pain, dropping the weapon, and pushing my hands to the gushing blood. Daryl grabbed the gun from the ground and placed it into the holster on his hip before pulling my hands from my face.

"Let it drip out. Better on the ground than your clothes," he muttered, gently shoving the back of my head so I would stare at my feet. Blood droplets fell from the tip of my nose and splattered on the concrete below.

"What about the tilting your head back and squeezing your nose shut trick?" I questioned, trying to avoid a stream of blood from entering my mouth.

"It don't work," he replied, inspecting the gun.

"Is it broken?" The bleeding seemed to ease, so I lifted my head again, sniffling loudly. Everything smelled like dirty metal.

"Nah. Okay, do it again."

"Again?!" I exclaimed, taking a step away from his extended hand. "I almost killed myself with that thing!"

Daryl gave me an annoyed stare, his hand unmoving. "Now you know to hold it steadier. And breathe out before you shoot."

Running my arm across my upper lip to rid myself of the drying blood, I grabbed the gun as if it were a used tissue. I held it as he taught me, readied my body for the impact I knew was coming, and exhaled slowly as I pulled the trigger. The gun remained in my hand, away from my face, and the bullet flew through the head. The ferocious snarling silenced.

"I did it?" I asked in disbelief as I lowered my weapon.

"Looks like it," Daryl replied, walking toward the lifeless object. "Clean through."

"Oh my God," I whispered, a hysterical giggle forming in my throat. "I killed it! I mean, it was already dead and everything, but holy shit! I killed a walker!"

Without thinking my actions through, I hurled myself at Daryl in an ecstatic embrace. My arms circled around his neck and I buried my face in the crook of his neck. However, once I realized what I'd just done, I launched myself away from him, fumbling to hand him the gun.

Daryl wrenched the weapon from my hand. "Don't ever muzzle someone you don't plan on killin'," he warned through gritted teeth.

"Muzzle?" I repeated, shrinking away at his voice.

"Pointin' the barrel at someone."

"I'm sorry, Daryl. I didn't mean to."

He shook his head and grabbed the walker by the hair, lifting it from the rebar. With a heavy grunt, he chucked it as far as he could. The two of us watched it sail through the air, landing on the other side of the fence.

"We should get on with this run," he muttered, lifting his gaze to the sky. "Only about three hours of daylight left."

I followed Daryl as he gathered what he needed from the prison. Adeline pulled me into a tight hug and expressed how proud she was of me, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her that I'd almost broken my nose and killed Daryl in less than five minutes. I cleaned my face of the remaining blood, grabbed a backpack that had been given to me when Rick was planning on sending us out with supplies, and eventually found myself on the back of Daryl's motorcycle.

"We get in, get what we can find, and get out," Daryl stated before he started up the vehicle. "Got it?"

I wrapped my arms securely around his waist, eyeing the angel wings that had been sewn onto his leather vest. More than anything, I wanted to trace the design with my fingertips. I had to push that urge far out of my mind.

"Got it."


	7. The Face Of Failure

When Adeline and I were younger, our father would often drag us along to sporting goods stores in hopes that we would become as interested in hunting as he was. For hours we would stand around in absolute boredom as Dad compared guns and their prices, their names, and how quickly a bullet would fly from the barrel and into a buck's neck. Much to his dismay, neither of his daughters cared for harming animals because it seemed fun.

"This is it," Daryl announced as he pulled into the parking lot of a rundown store. The letters had fallen from the building long ago, but I could make out where they had been painted around.

"Cabela's, huh?" I muttered, swinging my leg over the motorcycle.

Two gigantic bear sculptures loomed over the entrance. They stood back on their hind legs, their claws and teeth ready to rip apart their prey. As we passed underneath them, I caught a glimpse of a sardonic smirk on Daryl's face.

"I'll get the ammo," he informed me once we entered. He held out a gun toward me. "You find anythin' else that looks important. Don't shoot unless you're sure you're gonna die."

We parted ways. Daryl headed toward the guns and ammo section of the store while I found myself in the clothing department. Most of the clothes had been taken already; winter jackets, shoes, and multi-pocket hiking pants. I did, however, find a bin full of blankets that were previously marked as half-off. My mind instantly pictured the baby. Sure, we had plenty of blankets at the prison, but none of them were warm at all. I grabbed three and stuffed them into my backpack.

The store smelled of mildew and something else I couldn't quite place my finger on. As I wandered up and down isles, throwing energy bars, metal water bottles, and trail mix packets into my backpack, I made sure to avoid the dead bodies huddled in the corners. Telling from the smaller bodies clinging to adult-sized ones, I assumed families remained here to obtain guns and escape the world together.

"How lucky," I whispered, trying my hardest to push the image of my own parents from my head.

To my surprise, nestled in the very back near the pink camouflage tank-tops and lingerie, a cosmetics aisle had been holding a buy-one-get-one-free sale. I guess even sporting goods stores had to appeal to the customers who weren't into anything else in the building. Those types of customers such as myself.

Grinning widely, I searched through the different types of cover-up, fake eyelashes, and mascara. As quickly as I could, I pushed the blankets in my backpack to the side to make room for my treasure. I missed make-up almost as much as I missed decent food every day.

Once I was finished, I stood and turned to return to Daryl. Instead, I faced a full-length mirror. My reflection caught me by shock. For a good minute or so, I stared at myself, wondering if the woman staring back at me was truly me. The blonde hair that used to fall in soft waves now clumped together with brown dirt and dust. My cheekbones were prominent now. Dark circles of exhaustion sagged underneath my dull cobalt eyes.

I no longer looked like twenty-five year old Harper Minster, the woman who refused to follow in her mother's footsteps and go to college just to become some hot-shot ringleader of a company she didn't even like to shop at. I no longer held my father's curious gaze. That had been replaced with utter fear and uncertainty. I no longer felt like I could take on the world just because I came from a family comprised of money.

A figure approached from behind me, inspecting himself in the mirror as well. Daryl peered in close, running a hand along his beard and touching the bags underneath his own eyes. "Ugly motherfucker," he mumbled to himself before stepping away. "Got what you needed?"

"Uh, yeah," I replied, turning my back to the mirror. "I found a few blankets for the baby and some energy bars. There isn't much else here, though."

"Yeah, not much for ammo either."

I followed Daryl back to the outside of the store, but instead of hopping on the motorcycle and returning to the prison, he grabbed a handful of the back of my shirt and yanked me behind one of the bear statues. Peering around a paw, I could see a large black van with four men surrounding it. They inspected Daryl's bike, muttering to themselves in appreciation for the paint and model.

Beside me, Daryl loaded a bolt into his crossbow. I covered my mouth with my hand to quiet my heavy breathing as one of the men swung a leg over, sitting comfortably on the seat.

"Get off the bike!" Daryl shouted, revealing himself to the group. His crossbow aimed for the one on the bike. I followed his actions, raising my gun to the tallest one standing.

The man smirked and rose up, holding his hands up in forfeit as he placed both feet on the ground. "Hey, no worries, man," he said gently. "I don't mean any harm. Is this yours? It's nice, real nice. Where'd you get it?"

Daryl didn't respond. He held his ground, his eyes glaring daggers into the heads of the men that surrounded his prized possession. Sweat formed on his face and I couldn't tell if it was from the overwhelming heat pounding down on us or from his own anger.

"Let's make a trade, huh?" the man suggested, patting the seat of the bike. "You can keep this baby if you hand over that babe." He raised a finger in my direction.

My heart crashed into my stomach as the gun wobbled in my hand. Daryl's eyes shifted to me as his crossbow lowered. In an instant, he was on me, ripping the gun from my hand and the backpack from my shoulders. I cried out in horror as he gripped my arm and pulled me toward the men, throwing me into their dirty hands.

"Good choice," the man said with an almost toothless grin. I struggled against them, kicking and punching as hard as I could. Through my tears, I watched as Daryl tied the backpack onto the motorcycle.

"Daryl!" I pleaded as the men held me back from him. "Please don't do this! Help me!"

Without a word, Daryl started his motorcycle and began to drive forward at a very slow pace. He made a semi-circle before pulling his crossbow from his holster on his back. A bolt shot through the man who had the tightest grip on me, and then through the others. Their bodies lifelessly dropped to the ground around me.

"Get my damn bolts and search that van for anything," Daryl ordered. "Hurry up."

My mouth opened for words that I could not find. So many emotions racked through me that I couldn't focus on a single thing to form a thought.

"Are you fucking joking me?" I whispered, my hands doubling into fists at my side. "You almost got me raped, Daryl!"

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. "Why do you got to be so dramatic all the damn time?" he snapped. "I had to distract them with something."

"So you used me?!"

"Are you dead?! No! So get your ass in there and find shit!"

My lips trembled with anger as I racked the sliding door on the van open. Beer bottles, needles, and porn magazines littered the inside. I almost gagged from the smell of old drugs and molded food as I shifted through the trash. Clicking the center console open, I picked up the guns they had hidden away and took the ammo stashed underneath the seats.

"Nice," Daryl whispered as I hauled my findings back out to him. He zipped open the backpack and peered in. "What the hell?" His hand dug in, revealing my make-up.

"Hey, that's mine!" I snapped, grabbing the backpack from him.

"I said take shit you _need_!"

"I need this!"

"For what?!"

I didn't respond to him. The guy almost had me raped or killed, or both, and demands answers from me like I owe him something. I ignored his glower as I shoved the ammo into my backpack, gently setting the guns on top, and took my place behind him.

"Can we go?" I muttered.

Shaking his head in bitter rage, he started the engine. "Anything for you, _princess_."


	8. Gun Wielding Boss

Two days. Glenn and Maggie had been gone two days before she showed up, and then she did, it seemed that the entire prison turned upside down.

Beth paced back and forth in front of the cell block entrance, her sky blue eyes staring off either at the walkers that littered the outside gates or the forest beyond them. I pulled my fingers into my palm, tightening my hands into fists between my legs. Although winter was beginning to disappear, the cold air still made it a point to brush by every now and then to remind us that it would be coming back.

"Beth, come on," I muttered, bringing my hands to my lips to huff hot air onto them. "Standing around worrying won't bring them back. I'm sure they're just doing things they aren't comfortable to do here in front of your dad."

"No," Beth answered, shaking her head. "Maggie knew the baby needs the formula. She wouldn't be so selfish."

And so I continued to watch her walk back and forth between two fence posts until finally, her sniffling annoyed even herself. She jutted her head toward the door and I followed her inside without hesitation. Our group, minus Adeline and Carl who were outside guarding the perimeter, sat huddled around a makeshift fire. Carol had pulled together enough wood to get a decent flame started.

"There she is," Axel, one of the prisoners we'd come across, greeted me. As nice as the man seemed to be, something about him made me uncomfortable. It could have been the way he always tried to snake an arm around my waist or shoulders, or the way he sent a wink my way when I announced that I was going off to bed. Either way, I avoided him as much as I could.

I gave him a nod of acknowledgement as I sat next to Carol, who handed me a plate of cooked rabbit, thanks to Daryl. I wasted no time digging into the meat, savoring every bite I took.

"I'll have to admit," I started after swallowing a mouthful of food, "even though this isn't Aria, I wouldn't mind eating it every day."

"What's Aria?" Carl questioned, chomping down on his own piece of meat.

I glanced around, meeting the eyes of everyone in the room. "It's a high-end restaurant," I answered meekly. "It used to be one of my parent's favorites."

Thankfully, Little Ass-Kicker began to cry just in time to bring the attention away from my family's wealth. Daryl placed his plate on the ground after declaring that he'd take care of it, licked each of his fingers individually, and stood from the spot he sat. He picked the infant up into his arms and fumbled around in a bag he'd obtained on a more recent run.

"Hope they get back soon," he grumbled, mostly to himself as he prepared the last can of formula with his free hand. "This is the last one."

Little Ass-Kicker's frantic cries came to an immediate halt as Daryl placed the bottle in her mouth. The rest of our group fell into a drone of conversation, but my eyes lingered on the man across the room. He slowly walked back and forth, adding an extra bounce in his steps.

"I know," he cooed as Little Ass-Kicker began to fuss again. "It ain't warm, but it's better than nothin'. I know, sweetheart, I know."

I couldn't help but watch him with a smile. Sure, Daryl Dixon acted like a complete jackass most of the time, but when it came to Little Ass-Kicker, he was as soft as could be. Part of me figured that maybe one day, he would have the chance to be a perfect father. The other part of me, however, hoped that the baby he held in his arms would be the last one to ever be born into a world like this.

"Dad!" Carl called, opening the entrance only a few inches. "Dad, come here!"

Rick instantly jumped to his feet, slamming his plate on the table. The baby spat out the bottle from her mouth and flailed her arms and legs about, wailing violently. Daryl hissed to himself, looking toward the door in desperation as he continued to bounce her in his arms. I stood, offering myself to him. With a nod of gratitude, he placed her in my arms and sprinted after Rick.

The rest of our group waited in suspense. I copied Daryl's movements, speaking in a soft voice while walking in circles with the baby. She calmed down after a few moments. I started to wonder how Daryl became so good with infants. Maybe he once had a child of his own?

In a rush, Adeline stormed in, a bag of supplies in her hand. Through the plastic, I could see the word "formula." Speaking as calmly as she could, she urged everyone to return to their cells, per Rick's orders. When I'd asked her what was going on, she gave me a stern stare and repeated her order.

I followed Beth into her cell, where she had made a small bed for the baby. Luckily, she had fallen asleep just before my sister came in, so I simply put her in the bed and hurried to the barred door separating the common area and the cell block.

Rick and Carl had grabbed in an African-American woman. She glared at the two of them, along with Daryl who stood in the corner with his crossbow ready to fire and Hershel, who limped at Rick's side.

"We can tend to that wound," Rick informed her. "Give you a little food and water, then send you on your way." His words struck me almost as if he was speaking directly to me.

My sister walked past me, a gun held tightly in her hand. It was almost as if she didn't even see me in her path. She simply walked around me, opened the door, and closed it once more without a single word of acknowledgement.

"You're going to have to tell us how you found us," Rick continued, his voice nearly a whisper. "And why you were carrying formula."

After a moment of complete silence, the woman responded, "The supplies were dropped by a young Asian guy with a pretty girl."

Hershel moved in closer to her. "Were they attacked?" he demanded to know.

"They were taken."

"Taken by who?"

"By the same son of a bitch who shot me."

Rick's face contorted as he kneeled down to her eye-level. "These are our people," he growled, grabbing a spot on her leg that had been bandaged with bloody gauze. She cried out in pain, fighting against him. "Tell us where they are now!"

The woman stood, shoving her finger in Rick's face. "Don't you touch me!"

I covered my mouth to quiet my yelp of surprise. Daryl's eyes met mine for only a split second before he lifted his crossbow in my direction. "Get the hell back there, Harper!" he yelled before turning to the woman. "You better start talkin' or you're gonna have a much bigger problem than a gunshot wound."

My sister approached the bars, gripping onto them tightly as she hissed, "Harper, just listen to Daryl, please?"

"Who died and made you the gun wielding boss of me?!" I snapped back.

"Mom and Dad."


	9. Strong Enough

"How do you know we can trust her?" Adeline questioned as she paced within the small group that Beth, Axel, Daryl, Rick, Oscar (another inmate we'd stumbled upon), her, and myself had formed inside the cell block. "What if she's with the people who took Glenn and Maggie?"

"Why are we even debating?" Beth replied, her eyes wide with worry for her sister. "We need to go and get them."

Daryl shook his head at my side. "We ain't debatin'. I'll go after them." His knuckles turned white around his crossbow.

"From what Michonne told me, this place sounds pretty secure," Rick added, placing his hands on his hips. A crease of concern indented the middle of his forehead.

"I'll go," Beth offered.

Axel nodded. "Me too."

"Count me in," Oscar said.

"Same." Adeline nibbled on her bottom lip. She always did that when faced with a tough decision.

"If my sister goes," I said, "so do I."

Shaking his head, Rick took a small step from me. "I'm sorry, Harper, but one day of gun training with Daryl isn't going to cut it. We don't know what we're getting ourselves into there. It would be best if you stayed behind and helped out with things around here."

My mouth dropped as anger boiled in my gut. I looked to my sister for backup, but she avoided my constant glare. "Are you serious?" I hissed, turning back toward Rick. "This isn't fair. I know how to shoot. I was prepared to shoot those men the other day! Tell him, Daryl!"

Instead of agreeing with me, Daryl shrugged nonchalantly, as if this wasn't a big deal. "S'not my call."

Placing his hands in his pockets, Rick gave me a stern look. "Its settled then. We'll leave in the morning, and you'll help Carol with whatever she needs help with here."

o-o-o

"What the hell was that?" I snapped, leaning against the barred door to Daryl's cell. He had picked the one in the very back corner and placed a blanket over the bars for privacy. Unfortunately for him, I had ripped them down in my storm of fury.

Daryl sighed from the bottom bed of his bunk and placed his arm over his eyes to block out the light lingering from the windows. "What do you want from me, girl?" he grumbled in annoyance.

I lifted my arms in a sarcastic shrug. "Oh, I don't know, Daryl. Some backup would've been nice. You know I can shoot. Just go convince Rick to—"

"You shot a walker once," he interrupted without looking at me. "It wasn't even movin' and you were ten feet away. What makes you think you can shoot livin' people?"

"This isn't fair!"

Daryl finally sat up and clasped his fingers together, resting his elbows on his knees. "What," he started, narrowing his eyes sideways at me, "makes you think anythin' in the world is fair now? Oh, I forgot. You came from a stuck-up, hoity-toity, rich family, so everythin' was fair to you, right?" He stood, his body rigid. "As long as daddy dearest gave you money, everythin' was fucking great, wasn't it?"

My hands moistened with sweat as I balled them into tight fists at my side. I grinded my teeth together painfully at an attempt to keep my mouth shut, but it ultimately failed. "Jealous, Dixon?" I spat. "That's what your problem with me is, isn't it? You're jealous of me. What, did you grow up on the streets? Don't know who your daddy is? You know, that wouldn't surprise me. Why don't you do something useful and go tell Rick to let me come?"

As quickly as the words flew from my mouth, I regretted them. Daryl lips twitched in a cynical smirk as he advanced closer to me. For a moment, I thought he was going to hit me, but I refused to shrink away from him. Instead, I glared him down.

He stopped only inches from my face. With a hoarse whisper, he told me, "I don't take orders from no bitch Barbie doll."

Only when his fist collided with the wall on his right did I jump in surprise. Daryl walked past me without another word. I didn't see him again for the rest of the night.

o-o-o

"Let's go, Harp," Adeline whispered as she shook me awake. My eyes fluttered open and I reached over to wipe the trail of drool trickling down the side of my face. The sun beamed into our cell. I reached for my pillow and forced it over my head.

"Too early," I groaned.

"We're going to leave without you if you don't get a move on."

"What?"

She yanked the pillow from me, tossing it to the other side of the cell. I sat up, rubbing my eyes with the balls of my hands. "Rick wants you to come," she explained.

I stared at her in confusion. Was I dreaming? Or was this a sick joke that Daryl had talked her into? "Why?" I questioned. "He was so adamant about it yesterday. Why'd he change his mind?"

Adeline gave a soft shrug. A gun had already been strapped to her back. "I don't know, but we're wasting time. Come on."

I hurried to dress into my everyday clothes, which consisted of a pair of dirty green shorts that cut off just below my knees and a black tank top. Considering I wore these clothes every day, they were torn in a few spots and smelled a little more horrid than I'd like, but I didn't have anything else. I tossed my hair back into a tight ponytail and gave my newly acquired make-up a quick glance. If I would've had enough time, I would've dolled myself up a bit before leaving.

Everyone was outside to see us go. Carol gave me a soft smile as she informed me that Little Ass-Kicker had officially been named Judith, thanks to Carl. He grinned proudly when I told him it was a perfect name for her.

Beth decided to stay back and help with Hershel. So, Rick, Adeline, Daryl, Axel, Michonne, Oscar, and myself piled into a small Hyundai Tucson. The pale green color reminded me of dentist offices.

As Rick drove, I continuously shifted my body weight between my sister and Axel, who kept trying to snake a hand between my thighs. While I ripped his fingers back, I glowered into the back of Daryl's head.

"Question," I called out after about ten minutes of silent driving. "Why does Dixon get the front seat?"

"Because you're annoyin', that's why," Daryl answered, staring straight ahead. Adeline let out a heavy breath as she watched out the window at the passing trees.

"At least I know who my daddy is," I grumbled, slapping Axel's hand away once again. "I swear to God, if you don't knock it off, I'm going to rip it off."

We continued on the same road for what felt like hours. Finally, Rick pulled to the side of the road and we stumbled out. As everyone readied their weapons, I was handed the same gun I used on my run with Daryl. His piercing blue eyes refused to stray from mine as he forced it into my hand.

"They have patrols," Michonne informed us. "We're better off on foot."

"How far?" Rick asked, tilting his head back to look toward the sky. "Night's coming."

"A mile, maybe two."

We unloaded the rest of the weaponry from the back of the car. Snarling sounded from behind us, but before I could have any time to feel afraid, Adeline stalked toward the walkers, ramming a knife into their skulls. I watched them drop before looking toward her in slight disgust. She paid no attention to me.

As we trekked through the woods, I followed close to the group. The sun's heat beat down on us and I soon became tired. I craved my bed back at the prison, but I didn't want to give away any signs that I was already wearing down. That would only give Daryl more ammo to spit at me the next chance he got. If we survived this, that is.

"Down!" Rick suddenly hissed. The rest of the group kneeled in silence, so I followed suit. Growling echoed from all around us. "Formation. No gunfire."

His words repeated in my head. Formation? What formation? What was I supposed to do?

A knife was forced into my palm by Oscar, who raised a finger to his lips. The hilt trembled in my shaking hand as I faced an oncoming walker. With a soft grunt, I drove the blade right between the eyes before it got to close to me. Blood spurted from the wound and my stomach churched. I held back my need to puke as I pushed the body from my weapon.

We fought our way through the advancing herd, but I found myself backed up against a tree by three of the ugly creatures. A scream stuck in my throat as my eyes filled with tears.

"Let's go!" Daryl hissed, grabbing for my hand and yanking me to the side. He pushed the walkers over with his foot as we ran to catch up to the group.

A small hut came into view. Daryl's hand only tightened around mine as we came closer, watching Rick force the door open. Once we were inside, Michonne pulled the door shut behind us. I ripped my hand away from Daryl's to cover my nose, trying not to gag at the rank scent that filled the room.

"Ugh, what the hell is that?" Daryl questioned, covering his own nose with his hand. Flies buzzed about annoyingly as we swatted them from our faces again and again.

A flashlight settled on a rotting dog carcass in the corner of the room. Its snout had been decayed back; the teeth scattered around the mouth. They must've fallen out long ago. Skin tore at the abdomen, revealing greying innards that looked as if they were turning into a puddle of molded liquid.

Banging sounded from the outside as the walkers tried their hardest to get inside, to get to us. Their loud groans and moans only attracted more of their kind.

"Who the hell are you?!"

My attention was ripped away from the windows as a man, rugged and ragged, shot up from the safety of the blankets he huddled under on the bed. Rick and Daryl both raised their weapons in defense, ready to strike at any moment.

"We don't mean any harm," Rick told him, trying to sound as calm as possible. However, when the man lifted a gun toward him, the rest of our group pointed our weapons at his head.

"Get out of my house!" the man shouted frantically.

"Okay, okay, but we can't right now."

"NOW!"

As he bellowed at us to leave his home, the walkers outside became more violent. Wooden boards were ripped from the windows and the walls sounded as if they were going to cave in on us.

"I'm going to get my badge," Rick breathlessly whispered, trying to prove to the man that he did indeed used to be a cop. "It's in my pocket. Okay? Here I go."

As he reached down, he pushed the barrel of the gun from his face. I yelped as the bang went off. My ears rang painfully, but when I saw where the bullet almost landed, my heart dropped into my stomach. If Daryl hadn't moved to the right in the second that he did, his head would've been blown off.

Rick wrestled the man into submission for only a moment, but he slipped through his grasp and ran toward the door. We called for him to stop, to keep the door closed, but he refused to listen to us. In a swift motion, Michonne unsheathed her sword and delivered it straight through the man's chest. He cried out in pain and crumbled to the ground.

As Daryl and Rick lifted the man's body to feed him to the snarling walkers outside, I stood back and watched in horror. My knees wobbled and no matter how much I rubbed my palms off on my shirt, they still became damp the second I grabbed for my knife.

I wouldn't admit it, but I couldn't help but think to myself: was I strong enough for this?


	10. The Damn Hero

"You okay, honey?" Axel whispered, placing a hand on my back. I doubled over, fighting off the urge to throw up as I tried my hardest to catch my breath. We'd been running for so long that my legs and lungs burned with exhaustion. Sweat beaded my forehead and dripped from my hair.

I nodded, standing up straight and tilting my head back. All the air in my body felt as if it were stuck in my chest. Rick motioned for us from the barrier of a car. The two of us hurried to press our bodies against the cold metal, hiding from whatever was on the other side.

"A wall," Adeline mouthed to me, peeking over the driver side window. The glass had been shattered out long ago.

Pressing my mouth shut tight with my lips, I circled my head around the back of the car to see what she was talking about. I squinted, trying to look through the darkness that had settled over us two hours before. She was right; a makeshift wall comprised of broken wood, tires, and metal fencing had been erected. A large gate stood proudly in the middle. Men lingered at the top, guns held securely in their hands. Decaying walker bodies were scattered about the road in front of us. They must've been guarding the place.

Beside me, Michonne shook her head, backing away from our group and disappearing into the trees behind us. Rick hissed after her, but she ignored him completely.

Rolling his eyes, he muttered, "We need to downsize. Get rid of anything you can't run with."

As the others dropped some of their guns, I made sure I had the knife Oscar had given me before. It was the only weapon I carried on me, but I wasn't sure if that was an advantage.

A twig snapped behind us and in an instant, guns were raised in the direction from which it came. Michonne glared at us, bringing her pointer finger to her lips in a sharp, "Shh." She pointed to her left and waved her hand for us to follow.

"Let's go," Daryl mumbled in my ear, giving me a soft push on the back.

We followed the woman in complete silence. I held the knife at my chest, the tip pointed outward just in case I needed to swing it quickly. A backside door that had once been locked tightly slightly hung open, the open padlock hanging loosely from the chains. Michonne pushed it open, flinching at the high creak of the hinges.

The building seemed oddly comforting. Pictures of the world before hung on the walls, sturdy bookshelves overflowed with magazines and novels, and the couches and chairs seemed to have been used often. I ran my fingertips along a table. No dust whatsoever.

"This is where you were held?" Rick whispered to Michonne, taking note of her expression of disgust.

"I was questioned," she replied.

Adeline and Oscar remained back near the door we came through, their weapons ready to shoot. I followed Daryl to the window and peeked through as he moved the curtain to the side. People roamed the streets in clan and proper clothing. Jealousy swirled inside me. What I wouldn't do to get my hands on new clothes.

"Thought you said there was a curfew," Daryl commented, turning back toward Michonne.

"The streets are packed during the day," she explained, observing the people outside. "Those are stragglers."

Gazing out the window behind me, Rick announced, "We can't stay here any longer. We need to move."

"They could be in his apartment," Michonne suggested.

Daryl dropped the curtains, cutting off my lingering, bitter view of the untainted people outside. "What if they ain't?" he demanded, giving her a confronting stare.

"Look somewhere else," she answered through gritted teeth.

Daryl, Rick, and Oscar circled the woman as Adeline and Axel stood at my side. They mumbled threats and questions at her – too low for us to hear. Maybe they wanted it that way. Even so, I wanted to push them from her. It was obvious she was doing everything she could to help us.

Finally, they tore away from her to form a huddle. As they talked amongst themselves, I approached Michonne, offering her a small smile.

"I'm sorry for them," I whispered, jutting my chin toward the triad of men.

"I don't need your apology," she shot back. Her words cut me as she avoided my gaze. Instead of yelling like I wanted to, I continued to force the smile on my face.

"You're getting it anyway."

"Hey," Daryl hissed, grabbing my arm roughly. I struggled against him as he led me back toward my sister and Axel. "Stay away from her."

"Piss off, Dixon," I spat, yanking my arm from his grasp. A sharp gasp escaped my throat as the lock on the door began to jingle. Daryl firmly held my arm again, dragging me down behind the couch. To prevent me from making any noise, he pressed his hand to my mouth.

The door swung open. Footsteps echoed in the room. Through my teary eyes, I could see that the other members of our group had also thrown themselves into stealthy hiding spots.

"Come on out now," a man called. "I saw you through the window. Ain't no use hidin' from me." He casually strolled toward the back where Rick had hid behind a curtain. Once he was close enough, the sheriff pinned him against the wall, holding his gun only inches from the man's face.

"Shut up. Get on your knees," Rick ordered, throwing the man on the floor. Daryl stood, pulling me along with him.

"You all right?" he asked, staring sideways at me. I only nodded, brushing off my clothes with my free hand.

He left my side without hesitation to zip-tie the man at Rick's orders. I watched in fear for the man as he was interrogated, but my knife never left my hand. Adeline, Michonne, Axel, and Oscar never lowered their weapons. Daryl's crossbow never dropped from the man of the man's head. When the butt of the crossbow collided with his head and I watched as the man slumped over, I backed from the group.

What was I doing here with them? Adeline and I didn't belong here. We were on our own mission when we were saved. What had happened to that? We weren't killers, or even people who could cause harm to living beings.

I stared at my sister, at the ferocious glower she locked on the man's unconscious body. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Adeline did belong here. She was tough, much braver than me, and willing to kill someone at Rick's command. I wasn't.

My lips began to quiver as they dragged the man into another room, locking the door as they closed it. I knew I should've kept my mouth shut, but the words flew out before I was able to catch them.

"Why did you do that?" I asked Daryl. He stopped pacing and gave me a questioning look. "Why did you knock him out like that? What if he wasn't the one who took Glenn and Maggie?" Tears fled my eyes and I hurried to wipe them from my dirty face.

"It was either him or us," Daryl explained gravely. "Do you wanna be his damn hero and save him?" His crossbow lifted and pointed directly at my head. Fear struck me hard.

"N-No," I whispered, flinching away from him.

"S'what I thought."

He lowered the crossbow, turned, and followed Rick out of the building.


	11. Attack

**Hello everyone! So, this weekend is Comic Con here in Reno. Guess who is there? Norman Reedus. Guess who doesn't have enough money to attend? Me. So, instead of meeting the real thing, I'm stuck at home writing about him. How sad, right? **

**Other than my little pitiful rant, I wanted to say thank you to those of you who are following this story and to those of you who have reviewed it. It really does mean so much to me that you're enjoying reading this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. **

**Thank you again!**

* * *

><p>There was smoke. So much in fact, that I couldn't see as my hands desperately grabbed for Maggie and Glenn as we rushed into the damp room. It smelled like burning hair, rotting flesh, and blood. I couldn't differentiate the scent between tortured humans or walkers.<p>

"Go, go, go!" Daryl hissed sharply into my ear as I held onto Maggie's tiny arm. My other hand securely clasped in Daryl's as he dragged us from the building.

Shouts rang out from behind us, but they didn't belong to any of our people. The men who were only seconds away from shooting the two barked and hollered bewildered orders to each other to find us and kill us by any means necessary. It only gave me more fuel to run as fast as I could away from them.

Painful tears clouded my eyes as we ran through the empty streets of Woodbury. As soon as we escaped the smoke, I wiped my eyes furiously to rid myself of them. We found ourselves in a neat house, cluttered with family pictures and other trinkets that had no purpose. Glenn leaned against a counter, his face bloodied and bruised. Maggie tore herself from my grasp and kneeled beside him, inspecting him as delicately as she could.

"Ain't no way out back here," Daryl announced, frantically searching for a door. I stood at the window, peeking through the curtains. Michonne ran by. Instead of informing anyone, I kept my mouth sealed. So what if she decided to book it? She helped us with our mission.

"How did you find us?" Maggie demanded to know. "Where's that woman?!"

I nibbled on my lower lip as Rick glanced around at our group. "She was right behind us."

Turning from the window, I spied Daryl glaring at me intently. I avoided his gaze by approaching my sister, who seemed too riled up to lower her gun. She seemed to be okay physically. Only a few cuts on her arms and a black eye forming.

"Maybe she was a spy," Oscar suggested. He nudged Axel with his shoulder. "Want us to go look for her?"

"No," Rick answered, pointing toward Glenn. "We need to get him out of here. She's on her own."

My mouth dropped at his words. Michonne had done so much for us, and now we were just going to leave her? Absolutely not. I wouldn't accept that.

"I'm going to go find her," I said, heading toward the door. Daryl hurried to stand in front of me, blocking me completely. "Move, Dixon."

"If you leave," Rick started, approaching me from behind, "we won't come and try to find you. You'll be on your own too."

"Harper, stop it," Adeline scolded, her gun finally dropping to her side. "Just forget about her and let's go."

My hands curled into tight fists after I placed my knife back on my hip. My eyes never left Daryl's, but not out of my stubborn ways. Something about his expression spiked my curiosity. He didn't seem as angry as he usually did when he looked at me. Instead, I felt as if he was giving away a pleading stare.

"Okay," I whispered, taking a step away from him. "But I think just leaving her out here is really screwed up."

As the room flew into a hurricane of preparations, Daryl moved from the door slowly, almost as if he was expecting me to suddenly change my mind and run out. I shook my head slowly, trying to give away how disappointed I was. He glanced me up and down before returning to Rick's side.

"Daryl," Glenn managed to choke out. "It was Merle."

The archer froze in his stance and turn toward the kid. "What?"

"It was. He did this."

"You saw him?" Rick snapped.

"Face-to-face," Glenn answered as Maggie wrapped a blanket around him. "He threw a walker at me. He was going to execute us."

I watched Daryl stare at him in disbelief. His eyes fell to the floor, back to Glenn, then back down over and over again. His fingers trembled on his gun. Finally, he approached him, watching him as if Glenn were a wild animal rearing to attack.

"My brother's this Governor?" he asked. Brother? Daryl had a brother?

"No," Maggie answered. "It's somebody else. Your brother is his lieutenant or something."

"Does he know I'm still with you?"

"He does now. I'm sorry, Rick," Glenn muttered. "We told him where the prison is. We couldn't hold out."

Rick kneeled in front of him, giving a wavering smile. "No need to apologize."

Daryl tore himself away from the group, lost in his own daze. Watching the rest of us plan to escape, I counted down in my head from three before approaching him.

"You okay?" I whispered as he turned from me. Instead of giving me a definite answer, he only stared at me for a few moments before taking his place back at Rick's side.

"If Merle's around, I need to see 'im," he said as Rick and Maggie helped Glenn to his feet. Adeline motioned me over, so I hurried to join the group.

"Not now," Rick replied. "We're in hostile territory."

"He's my brother," Daryl muttered desperately. "He ain't gonna try—"

Shaking his head, Rick snapped, "Look at what he did. We need to get out of here now."

As I watched the two, my heart ached for Daryl. If I was placed in his situation, I would be handling it a lot worse than he was. I turned toward Adeline, knowing that she was thinking the same thing. I couldn't imagine being torn away from her like that.

"Maybe I can talk to 'im, man," Daryl suggested. "We could work somethin' out."

Rick pulled him to the side, whispering too low for the rest of us to hear. I could tell from Daryl's expression, though, that he wasn't getting his way. He looked torn, hurt, and worried. I'd never seen him this way before and I wasn't sure if I liked it. It meant he wasn't some gruff asshole who bullied everyone around like I originally thought, but at the same time, it meant he was in horrible amounts of pain.

They broke away and Rick ran over the plan once more. My body quivered in fear, but I tried to hide it as best I could. This whole mission gave away the fact that I was the weak link in our chain. I didn't need any more signs to make obvious that I wasn't cut out for killing people.

I pressed myself close to Glenn, his arm draped around my shoulder. Maggie nodded toward me at his other side. We were in charge of getting him to safety while the others fought through whatever was going to meet us on the streets.

"Ready?" Daryl whispered, crouching a few feet from the door. Rick's hand wrapped around the knob tightly. With a short whistle, the door flung open and Daryl chucked another gas grenade out.

"Let's go!"

Gunshots, screaming, and Glenn's panicked breathing were the only sounds I heard through the smoke. We trudged through quickly. I tried my hardest to keep my eyes glued on my sister, who didn't hesitate to raise her gun and shoot anything that moved. I started to wonder when she had turned into a killer.

Eventually, we found ourselves pressed into a small corridor that seemed to lead to a store. Maggie and I gently placed Glenn against the wall as the others reloaded their weapons.

"How many are there?" I gasped, trying to fill my lungs with clean air.

"I didn't see!" Oscar answered.

"Don't matter," Daryl added, pushing bullets into the chamber of his gun. "We need to keep moving. There's gonna be more of 'em."

Glenn groaned in pain, clutching his chest with his hand. Maggie adjusted the blanket around him, covering the wounds on his body as best she could. I kneeled next to him, wiping away the blood that dripped from the corners of his mouth with my shirt. Adeline shot off rounds as if they were nothing. Was she even hitting anyone or was she only being controlled by adrenaline and rage?

"You guys go on ahead," Daryl ordered, standing to his feet. "I'll cover fire."

"No!" I snapped, grabbing on his hand to pull him back down to my eyelevel. "We need to stay together. What if something happens to you and we can't help?"

"This really ain't the time to be worryin' 'bout me, Harper," Daryl grumbled, yanking his hand from me. "Just get 'im to the car. That's the only thing you need to worry 'bout, got it?" I'm sure he could tell from my stern glower that I wasn't buying his tough act. Hanging his head, he gave a defeated sigh before looking back at me. "I'll be right behind you."

I finally gave a small nod. Our group stood and Maggie and I reformed our grip on Glenn once more. After throwing another gas grenade, Daryl yelled at us to hurry and go, so we did. Stumbling along the sidewalk, I turned my head and squinted through the clouded air. It was hazy, but I could make out his figure running after us, shooting behind him the entire way.

The wall finally came into view, blocked by an old school bus. Oscar and Axel both jumped onto the hood, pulling on Glenn's arms as Maggie and I pushed him up from his bottom. A gunshot sounded just above our heads. I let out a pitiful scream as Oscar's body tumbled off the metal and onto the ground next to my feet.

"Oscar!" I screamed, kneeling next to him. Blood seeped onto his shirt from his chest. I repeated his name, waiting for any sign of consciousness. Instead, soulless eyes stared back at me.

Adeline yanked me to my feet as Maggie put a bullet in Oscar's brain. "We have to go now!" my sister shrieked in my ear. I struggled against her, reaching for the man on the ground. She dragged me to the hood of the bus where Rick and Maggie hoisted me up.

"Daryl!" Rick bellowed once I was safely on the top of the vehicle.

Through the gunfire, we heard a faint, "Just go!"

Horror spread through me like a wildfire. I attempted to leap off the bus and run to him, but arms held me back. I thrashed against them as they hauled me over the wall.

I didn't stop screaming Daryl's name until my voice gave out.


	12. Open Arms

"We have to go back. Please, Rick," I begged. I had long ago given up the fight against my tears. As quickly as I wiped them, they just kept flowing. "We have to go back for him. What if they captured him? What if they're torturing him? _Please._"

Rick hung his head, leaning against a discarded car. Rust had begun to eat away at the metal. "Okay," he finally gave in. I had been pleading with him for almost an hour, so when he finally agreed, my heart fluttered in anticipation. "You're right. We need to go back, but we need people to stay here with Glenn. You—"

"No," I cut him short. "Give me a gun, Rick. I'm coming with you."

Adeline approached us, handing over her gun to me. "I'm getting tired to killing people," she said nonchalantly. "I'll stay back. You guys go." The gun felt so cold and unwelcoming in my hands. I knew I would have to shoot people – innocent people – but this time, I had to stomach it. I couldn't back down and just let them have Daryl.

Rick loaded his weapon and double checked to make sure I had enough bullets to protect myself. Before I knew it, we were back in Woodbury, running through the empty, abandoned streets. Smoke rose from the side of the small town, so we hurried in that direction. Cheers and shouts echoed louder as we came closer. Rick pulled me toward an overturned van, peering over to see what was going on.

The people of Woodbury formed a semicircle around two men and a small group of walkers. Squinting hard, I could make out Daryl's figure. Next to him stood a larger man whose right arm had been replaced with a metal coating. Back-to-back, they fought off the walkers that lunged at them, their teeth bared for flesh. I covered my mouth to quiet my cry of distress.

I glanced at Rick and he nodded at me. Raising my gun over the vehicle, I peered through the sights, focusing on a walker that had been detained with a metal rod. Exhaling slowly, I squeezed the trigger, watching as the head exploded into bits of rotted brain tissue and skull pieces. The crowd gasped in surprise and as Rick hurled a gas grenade toward them, they flew into a frenzied panic. Screams erupted as people tried to escape from my shots. I relentlessly fired, aiming for anyone I could. Most of them missed, but as people dropped to the ground in a pool of their own blood, I found myself attacking without thinking.

"Go, go!" Rick yelled over the gunfire.

I threw my weapon over my back, sprinting into the crazed gathering. Coughing in the smoke, I called out Daryl's name. A surprised yelp flew from my lips as a hand circled around my arm.

"Nice to see you finally grew a pair of balls," Daryl's gruff voice sounded in my ear. I suppressed a hysterical laugh as I dragged him back toward Rick, who was already on his way back to the rest of our group.

My lungs burned from exhaustion and smoke that had entered. I slogged along, hauling Daryl's arm over my shoulder. From my peripheral, I could see the other man behind us, constantly peeking over his shoulder to see if we were followed. In his regular hand, he carried Daryl's crossbow proudly.

Once we reached the car that we had left our group at, my heart shattered when I realized that they were nowhere to be found. Rick stated that they probably encountered walkers and fled back to our car. I hoped, more than anything, that his words were true.

We continued through the night. After a few hours, Daryl had taken his weight off me, saying that he was okay to walk. A deep gash was made obvious on his left leg, so I stayed close as he limped along. Rick and the man behind us constantly argued.

"You ain't coming with us," Rick sternly told him.

"You know, I think you owe me for lockin' my ass up on that rooftop, Officer Friendly. Ya cost me my damn hand!" the man retorted.

I glanced sideways at Daryl, who seemed to be concentrated on blocking the two out. "I'm guessing that's Merle," I whispered too low for anyone else to hear.

"How'd you guess?" he replied.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the way he argues for hours." I let out a small giggle, but he didn't find it as amusing as I did. "That, and you two have the same nose."

o-o-o

"Glenn!" Rick roared as the car came into view the next morning. "Adeline! Maggie! Axel!"

Exhaustion had settled over me long before we reached the rest of our group. My eyelids drooped and my thoughts became jumbled. Somewhere along the trek, Daryl had taken the weight of my gun off my back. I hardly remembered it enough to think back on it.

Adeline came running toward us as quickly as she could. Before I could realize what happened, she scooped me into a tight hug, whispering quickly, "I'm so glad you're safe."

Glenn appeared behind her, followed by Michonne and Axel. Rick tried to tell him to calm down, but weapons were already drawn. Michonne unsheathed her blade and headed for Merle while Glenn drew a gun toward the same man. Daryl and Rick stood in his defense, yelling for everyone to calm down. Meanwhile, Adeline and I stood off to the side, refusing to jump into the middle of it.

"He tried to kill me!" Michonne shrieked, glaring at Merle.

"He helped us get out of there!" Daryl retorted.

"Yeah, right after he beat the shit out of you!" Rick added.

"Hey, we both took our licks man," Merle said with a chuckle.

My mouth fell open as I glared at him. "You're such a jackass!" I shouted.

Merle lifted his pointer finger toward me. "Keep yer mouth shut, bitch!"

In a flash, Daryl whipped around and delivered his fist into his brother's stomach. "Don't talk to her like that!" he shouted, watching as Merle doubled over. I blinked at Daryl in surprise. He was sticking up for me? Was the world ending for a second time? He turned back, pushing the barrel of Glenn's gun from his face. "And get that thing out of my face!"

A pained, throaty laugh came from Merle as he struggled to stand on his feet. "Looks like you've gone native, little brother."

"No more than you hangin' out with that psycho back there!" Daryl defended.

"Oh yeah, man, he is a charmer. I've got to tell you that. Been puttin' the wood to your girlfriend Andrea big time, baby," he teased, winking toward Michonne. He licked his lips seductively, glancing her up and down.

This man was the complete opposite of Daryl. Other than the nose, I couldn't see how else they were related. Merle was downright disgusting. He was a pig in every sense of the word. I could never imagine Daryl acting the way he did. Not in a million years.

"Andrea's in Woodbury?" Glenn asked, looking between Rick and Merle.

"Yeah," Daryl answered, his voice much calmer. "Right next to the Governor."

Michonne's blade lifted once more, this time pointed toward Daryl. I instinctively reached for my knife, but before I could attack her with it, Adeline pulled me back. Rick threw a warning glower in my direction before turning to the enraged woman.

"You know Andrea?" he demanded to know.

"Yep, she does," Merle answered for her. His tone sounded as if this was all just one big joke. "Her and blondie spent all winter cuddled up in the forest. Mmm, yeah. My Nubian queen here had two pet walkers. No arms, broke the jaws off so they don't be bitin' anythin'. Kept 'em in chains. Kind of ironic, now that I think 'bou—"

"Shut up, you dick!" I snapped, taking a step to shove the man over. He hardly budged, but as I moved away from him, he bit down on his lower lip and nodded. I cringed and began to open my mouth to spit at him, but Daryl grabbed my arm and forced me away from his brother.

"So, whatcha going to do now, sheriff?" Merle asked, turning his attention (thankfully) away from me. "Surrounded by a bunch of lairs, cowards, and dumb blonde bitches."

"Shut up!" Rick bellowed.

Giving a spiteful laugh, Merle glanced around at our group. I resisted my urge to deliver my fist right into his face. "Look at this pathetic sight. All these guns and no bullets."

Daryl released me to place his face only inches from his brother's. "I said, SHUT UP!"

"SHUT UP YOURSELF, YOU BUNCH OF PUS—"

With the hilt of his knife, Rick slammed it into Merle's neck. The man collapsed on the ground in a loud thump. For a moment, Daryl and Rick stared each other down. I became worried that they would start to fight, but when the archer gave a grateful smirk, I sighed in relief.

o-o-o

"Sorry 'bout my brother," Daryl murmured as he approached me. I sat in the car with the door open, rubbing Neosporin into the cuts on my hands and my arms. He leaned against the metal, staring into the woods where we had left Merle. After scouting the area and seeing no walkers, it was a unanimous decision to give him a few hours of unconscious timeout. We all needed a break from him.

"Don't worry about it," I answered, curling a lock of grimy hair behind my ears. "That's the great thing about family. You love them, but you don't have to like them."

Giving a resentful scoff, he nodded. "Ain't that the truth."

I gazed at his hands, which looked so much worse than mine. "Here." I took hold of his left hand, squeezing the clear gel onto his cuts. Gently, I rubbed it in with the pad of my fingers. I half-expected him to flinch away from my touch, but he eased into it instead. Feeling his eyes on me, my face began to heat up with embarrassment.

"Thanks," he mumbled once I was finished. He continued to rest his hand in mine. "And uh, thanks for, you know, savin' my ass back there. Rick told me how much you bugged him to go back."

"It just didn't feel right leaving you back there," I answered honestly, refusing to look up at him.

Finally, he took his hand from mine. "You're not as worthless as I thought."

o-o-o

"Wait, what? You're leaving?"

I stumbled after Daryl, stopping only when my arms latched around his bicep. He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. I could hear Rick calling after him from the car. Rage swirled inside me, but I wasn't sure who I was more bitter toward. Daryl, for leaving us when we needed him. Rick, for letting him leave. Merle, for being the reason why he was leaving.

"No Merle, no me," Daryl whispered, softly pulling himself from my grasp. "Take care of yourself."

All of a sudden, I knew who I was the angriest at: myself. Only for the sole reason that I just watched him walk toward his brother, who welcomed him with an open arm, instead of chasing after him and not looking back.


	13. Revenge

"You know, I'm sure staring at his cell isn't going to make you feel any better."

Adeline gave a halfhearted sigh and leaned against the opposite side of the barred door from where I stood. I shook my head, knowing that she was right but refusing to admit it. The regret I felt remained in my gut even after two days since Daryl left with Merle. I was so worried that they would be attacked, even though Rick constantly reminded me that before they were on their own when the world went to shit and they were completely okay.

"I should've," I started, my voice cracking, "I don't know. I should've done something, said something to make him stay. We're so screwed without him."

"No," my sister replied, absentmindedly braiding thin locks of her hair. "We aren't screwed. Everyone here knows how to shoot a gun. Well, except Judith, but give it a few months and she'll be killing walkers left and right." She waited for a laugh from me or even a smile, but I could muster anything close to that. "Okay, not funny, I know. Harper, you can't keep beating yourself up. Daryl is a grown man who has made his own decision. Wouldn't you do the same if you were in his situation?"

I pondered that for a long time and eventually came to the conclusion that I would. Before we stumbled upon the group, it was just us. Adeline was the only reason why I stayed alive, and I was her only reason. Even now, if she decided to leave, I would follow her in a heartbeat.

"Come on," she whispered, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. As she led me away from the cell, I could hear her gun thumping against her back. "Let's go play with the baby."

o-o-o

I found myself staring into the cellblock common area where Adeline and I had first been detained when we met with the group. New people gathered in it now: a son and father, and a brother and a sister. From behind me, I could hear the clicking of Hershel's crutches. The entire group was coming to greet them.

As the barred doors opened, I tightened my fingers around the gun I was given. Adeline stood at my side, mimicking my movements. Rick took the lead, approaching the African American man who had instantly held out his hand.

"I'm Tyreese," he said with a soft smile. His hand dropped back to his side when the handshake wasn't returned.

"Sasha, Ben, Allen," Hershel introduced, pointing his left crutch at the other members of their group.

"How did you get in?" Rick demanded to know. His hand lingered on the gun holstered on his hip.

"Fire damage to the administrative part of the prison. The wall's down," Tyreese answered with a concerned gleam in his eyes.

"That side's completely overrun with walkers. How'd you get this far?"

"We didn't. We lost our friend Donna."

"They were lost in the tombs," Carl added from behind.

Rick whipped around, a hint of anger flashing across his face. "You brought them here?!"

"He had no choice," Hershel defended.

Nodding to himself, Rick turned back toward the group of strangers. I met Sasha's eyes and although she gave me a gentle grin, I tried my hardest to keep my face stoic. "I'm sorry about your friend," Rick sincerely said. "We know what that's like."

"Hershel said you could use some extra hands," Tyreese mentioned. "We're no stranger to hard work. We'll go out, get our own food, stay out of your hair. If you've got a problem with another group, we'll help with that too. Anything to contribute."

"No."

I nibbled on the inside of my cheek, focusing on a pebble on the ground. I didn't agree with Rick's decision and listening to the pleading made it even worse. Why did he allow Adeline and me to stay so easily before? Why were we so different than the people standing in front of us?

Hershel eventually called Rick to his side and they fell into their own conversation. I shook my head slowly, finally lifting my gaze. Sasha watched me, her eyes begging me to change Rick's mind. I wanted to tell her that there was nothing I could do, but my mouth couldn't form the right words.

"Why are you here?" Rick finally asked. At first, I thought he was speaking to the group, but he walked past them, staring up onto the catwalk above. "What do you want from me? Wh-Why are you – no. I can't help you! GET OUT!"

Everyone seemed to flinch away from his voice. He turned back toward the new group, frantically pacing around them. My fingers trembled at his actions, but I made sure to avoid the trigger at all costs. There was no way I could ever shoot him.

"GET OUT!" he hollered at Tyreese. "GET – GET OUT NOW!"

"Easy Rick," Maggie whispered, lifting her hands to place them on his shoulder. She backed away as soon as he grabbed the gun at his hip.

"YOU DON'T BELONG HERE! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

He continued to scream. I hurried toward Sasha, placing a hand on her back as I led her toward the exit of the building. "I'm so sorry for this," I whispered. "I don't know what's going on with him. I'm so sorry." The three men followed closely behind her as I pulled the door shut, locking it from the inside.

o-o-o

I woke to the sound of Judith's cries. It was Adeline's turn to care for her, but her vacant bed gave away that she was using the bathroom or was needed somewhere else. I hurried to crawl from the bed and scoop the baby from her makeshift cradle.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, sweetheart," I cooed, bouncing her with my stride as I entered the common area. I rummaged through bags of items that were obtained on runs until formula collided with my palm. Preparing it with a baby in my arms was so much more difficult than without.

Eventually, I placed the rubber nipple into her mouth and watched her wrap her tiny lips around it. Her crying instantly ceased as she sucked the formula from the bottle.

"I don't know," I told her in a whispered voice, pacing the common area. "Little Ass-Kicker seems to fit you so much better than Judith."

Thoughts of Daryl caused my chest to seize in pain. Before I knew it, I had walked back up into the cells, stopping in front of his. I sat on the bed, rocking back and forth with Judith in my arms. Voices echoed from the rest of the prison. I tried to block it out, but bits and pieces of their conversation still found it's way to my ears.

"…is unsecure…"

"…maybe you scared him off…"

"…walkers and humans…"

"…Daryl was captured…"

"…almost executed…"

"…not a good idea…"

Judith's tiny head lolled to the side, the bottle following her lips. Formula leaked from her mouth and I wiped away at it with the bottom of my shirt. Without realizing it, a small grin had crept across my face, but quickly faded when Glenn's face whipped around the corner.

"There you are," he whispered, trying not to wake the baby. "Would you mind keeping watch outside for a few hours?"

I stood, holding the infant close to my chest. "Yeah, no problem," I answered. "Just let me find Beth and get dressed."

Once Judith was properly handed over to her other babysitter, I returned to my cell and fished through the pile of clothes I had thrown in the corner. Luckily, Lori and I had been about the same size, so her clothes were donated to me. I threw on dirty shorts and a shirt with some band I'd never heard of printed on the front, grabbed my gun, and headed out into the muggy air outside.

Within only a few minutes of standing inside the outer gate, stabbing the dead with rusted pipes and sharpened shovel handles, I craved the inside of the prison. Sweat beaded my forehead and drenched my armpits and chest. I wished I was searching the tombs with Adeline, Glenn, and Carl. I'm sure Carol was aware of it; she hummed happy tunes loud enough over the groans so I could hear her.

"Carol?" I eventually said, grunting as I pulled my shovel back from the head of a large man dressed in a suit. He must've turned at a wedding.

"Hmm?"

"What do you think Daryl is doing right now?"

Carol stopped stabbing and allowed one side of the pipe to fall to the ground. She wiped her neck and face with her shirt before giving me a small shrug. "I don't know," she answered, glancing toward the surrounding woods. "Probably...eating a raw squirrel and then complaining to Merle when he gets stomach cramps."

I turned from her, trying to hide my growing smile. "Yeah, probably," I answered. "Or arguing with Merle over some stupid thing. They've probably already pissed each other off and killed each…" My words fell flat when I realized that that could've been the case. I didn't know either of the brothers very well, but I didn't know that Merle _wouldn't _kill Daryl.

Carol continued re-killing the walkers. "Don't worry about that," she told me. "Merle was with our group before. There isn't a single thing in the world he wouldn't do to keep his brother safe."

Giving a quick nod, I went back to my work. Hours passed in the sweltering heat. My stomach growled with painful hunger and my tongue withered in thirst. Without realizing it, Beth had jogged down toward us, informing us that Glenn was going to leave.

"Where?" I asked, shielding my eyes from the sun with my arm.

"I'm not sure," she answered. As if on cue, the inner gate opened. One of the trucks approached us and the three of us hurried to open the outer gate. Beth picked up the pipe and stabbed through the walkers as Carol and I tended to closing the gate. Glenn ignored us as he drove past.

Rick's wandering form from outside the gate caught my attention. I watched him carefully, studying the way his gaze flicked about, as if someone was calling his name from all different directions. Carol tugged on my arm, leading me away from the gate as Hershel hobbled down, calling his name.

"Let's not eavesdrop," she suggested, handing me my discarded shovel handle.

As much as I tried to follow her instructions, I couldn't help but hear them. Glenn was lost in a whirlwind of rage and didn't seem to have anything else on his mind except revenge against the Governor. All the while, Rick's mind seemed to be spiraling downhill quickly. Hallucinations of Lori were becoming part of his daily life. I closed my eyes tightly, sighing as I pinched the bridge of my nose. I couldn't imagine seeing the faces of my loved ones who had been taken over.

"Rick," I called, ignoring Carol's whispers for me to stop as I approached them. "Come inside, please. We don't know what's out there."

The man shook his head, burning red rings of exhaustion surrounding his eyes. "I can't. I'm sorry. I just can't."

My fingers curled around the fence as he walked from us. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of Daryl walking away in the same manner. Why was the fact that he left so painful? I didn't know the guy at all, but his absence left a strange yearning in the pit of my gut.

"Come on," Hershel said, patting my shoulder gently. "You two come inside, get some food. Good job tod—"

I yelped as a gunshot flew overhead. Covering my ears, I looked toward the prison. Someone had been shot up above. I just couldn't tell who. Before I knew it, Hershel had dragged me down to the ground as bullets landed in the dirt and ricocheted off rocks. Fumbling for my gun, I rolled onto my stomach, looking through the sights.

Men scattered in the woods. I shot at them, but my bullets missed. Adrenaline surged through me, causing my hands to shake. Once I realized that all I was doing was wasting bullets, I pressed myself as close to the ground as I could, just listening to the gunshots and yelling.

Finally, everything fell silent. In the distance, an engine roared. I lifted my head slowly, gasping in horror as a service truck drove through the gates only a few feet away from us. It stopped in the middle of the yard.

"What the hell?" I whispered, watching and waiting for something to happen. The back of the truck opened, letting loose at least twenty walkers.

"Get the hell out of there!" Rick ordered us, pointing toward the prison.

I hurried to my knees, exhaling as I aimed for the walkers. They were much easier to hit than living humans, so I was able to kill off six or seven of them. Glenn's truck returned and hurried through the collapsed gate, running over as many walkers as possible.

Helping Hershel to his feet, I placed my gun over my shoulder. "Come on," I whispered, allowing his body to lean on mine. My legs wobbled painfully as we limped toward the immense building, protected only by Michonne as she ran through, slicing heads off the damned creatures.

As much as we hurried, the prison never seemed to get any closer. I could hear the moans from behind me. I tried to hasten our pace, but Hershel's body didn't seem as cooperative as I'd hoped. In a flash, I was pushed to the ground. The rank smell of decaying flesh filled my nose as I held back a walker that had tackled me from the side. She snarled only inches from my face and I felt too weak to keep her from clawing at my skin.

"I told you to take care of yourself!" an angry voice yelled from over the snapping noises of her teeth. A bolt pierced her skull from behind and I wasted no time pushing the disgusting woman from me.

"Daryl," I whispered, eyeing Merle suspiciously as he pulled Hershel from the ground. Daryl held out his free hand toward me, which I happily took.

"You ain't doing a very good job of takin' care of yourself, girl."


	14. You're Good

"Were you bit?! Oh my God, please tell me you weren't bit!" Adeline cried, her hands ripping apart my clothing as she searched for any signs that I would turn soon. I attempted to fight her off, but she was much too persistent. So instead, I grabbed her arms tightly.

"Please stop," I murmured. "I'm fine. Daryl killed it before anything happened."

From the corner of my eye, I could see the archer lurking about. After the attack on the prison, Daryl had forced me into the building and practically threw me at my sister, telling her to hurry up and check for any bites. Naturally, she had flown into a panic and tried to strip me down right in front of him. I'd dragged her into our cell before anyone was able to see any parts of me I didn't want shown.

"I guess I should thank him then," she whispered, but made sure her voice was loud enough for him to hear, "if it weren't for the fact that if he hadn't abandoned us, this probably wouldn't have happened in the first place!" She ended her sentence in a shrieking yell.

Daryl, who had been standing with his back toward us the entire time, slowly turned his head to throw an angry glare at Adeline. "Yeah?" he questioned. "Maybe if you two weren't so damn worthless all the time, I wouldn't have had to save Harper's dumb ass!"

When we were younger, Adeline was always the one who had to get in the last word in arguments. I expected her to chase after him as he stomped down the stairs of the catwalk, but she simply let out a frustrated huff and planted her butt on the bed. "What an ass," she mumbled to herself.

Shaking my head, I hurried around the barred door and caught Daryl just as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Hey, Dixon?" I called. He stopped, but didn't turn to face me. "I just wanted to say thank you. I probably would've been turned already if it wasn't for you."

"Yeah," he answered sardonically. "You would have."

o-o-o

"We can't leave."

"We can't stay here!"

I buried my head into my hands as I sat on the stairs. I had woken up with a headache and it just seemed to become more and more painful as the day progressed. Everyone's bickering wasn't helping it either. With every shout, I could feel the dull pain gather just above my left eye.

"Look, if Rick says we're not running, we're not running!" Glenn announced, holding up his hands in an attempt to quiet everyone. It didn't exactly work out in his favor.

"Nah," Merle commented from the locked common area. "Better to live like rats."

Adeline narrowed her eyes at the man. "Sounds to me like you've got a better idea."

"Yeah. We should've slid out of here last night and lived to see another day. Lost that window, didn't we? I'm sure he's got scouts on every road out of this place by now."

"We ain't scared of that prick," Daryl retorted, scowling at his older brother from the catwalk. His voice caused me to jolt in surprise. None of us had seen him all morning.

"You should be. That truck through the fence thing? That was just him ringin' the doorbell."

Rolling her eyes, Adeline pointed a finger toward Merle. "How do we even know we can trust this guy? He almost killed Glenn, for God's sake." Her finger turned to Daryl. "And how can we trust that Daryl isn't on his side? Maybe they're both trying to get us out in the open so the Governor can get at us?"

I'm sure the inside of my cheek began to bleed from how much I nervously chewed at it as Rick slowly approached my sister. I hurried to my feet, readying myself to snatch the gun from Glenn's hand and put a bullet through the sheriff, but Carol placed a hand on my back in reassurance.

"Daryl and Merle were with us at the beginning, and Daryl was with us the entire time," Rick growled. Adeline's eyes never left his, but I could tell from the way her nostrils flared and how tightly her arms crossed over her chest that she was terrified. "We've known you and your sister for only three weeks. What makes me think we can trust you two? Maybe you've been sided with the Governor from the beginning?"

"You're joking, right?" I demanded to know. "You really think we sided with that man? We didn't even know who he was until we joined up with you!"

Merle let out an annoying, wispy laugh. "Guess trust doesn't come too easily 'round this group, huh?"

"Can we put him in the other cell block?" Maggie asked in aggravation.

"No, he's got a point about the Governor," Daryl added, propping his elbows on the metal railing.

"We need to leave," Hershel suggested. "Axel is dead because of him. We can't just sit here."

Rick tapped his fingers eagerly on his gun before turning from the group. He refused to acknowledge that Adeline existed anymore. Instead, he strolled toward Merle, who backed away from the door in expectance that Rick would let him out.

Hershel's booming voice frightened me. "GET BACK HERE!" he ordered. I shrunk away from him, shuffling closer to Carol. "You're slipping, Rick. We've all seen it. We understand why, but now is not the time. You once said this isn't a democracy. Now you have to own up to that. I put my family's lives in your hands, so get your head clear and do something."

I couldn't stand to be around these people anymore. I turned from them, ignoring the arguing that continued, and retreated to my cell. More than anything, I wished they had real doors. Their voices echoed directly to me. Lying on the bed, I placed my pillow over my head, pretending that it would help to block them out. The shouts, name-calling, and sarcastic laughs only stopped when I allowed myself to slip away into sleep.

o-o-o

"Hey." I felt a light tap on my shoulder. "Hey, wake up."

Disoriented and still suffering from my persistent headache, I cracked my eyes open, shielding them from the sunlight that was peering in from the window. Daryl stood above me, a rattling bottle of pills in his hand. As soon as his blue eyes met mine, I thought back to the group gathering earlier.

"What do you want?" I snapped.

"Your sister said you have a headache. I ain't got any water, so you have to dry swallow these."

I sat up and snatched the bottle from his hand. The pale orange color of the plastic automatically turned me off to them, but when I read the word "OxyContin" that had been Sharpied on, I wasted no time handing it back to him. "No thank you," I said. "This has 'drug dealer' written all over it."

Daryl shook his head, pushing my legs over toward the wall to make room for himself. He opened the bottle and shook a few pills onto his hand. "It ain't what it says on the bottle. It's just Tylenol. I didn't have anythin' else to put them in."

He held his hand out toward me, urging with his eyes for me to open my palm. I hesitated, but ultimately let the pills fall onto my hand. Before I had time to regret it, I threw them in my mouth and swallowed hard. After waiting for a few moments to see if my body would burst into convulsions or anything like that, I gave him a small nod.

"Thank you," I muttered, "for helping me once again."

"Yeah." Daryl used the supporting bars of the top bunk to pull himself up. I watched him as he headed toward the rest of the cell block, studying the tattoo on his left shoulder blade that peeked out from his winged vest.

"Hey, Daryl," I called just before he left my sight. He stopped and turned back to face me. "Do you think what Rick said is true? About Adeline and me siding with the Governor?"

Giving a small shake of his head, he pursed his lips together. "Nah," he answered. "You're kind of weak and can't do shit for yourself, but I think you're good."


	15. Cigarette Smoke

Since the attack from the Governor, falling asleep and staying asleep became extremely hard to do. I stirred awake and glanced out at the window. The sun was just barely beginning to rise - no later than five in the morning if I had to take a guess.

Adeline's soft snores sounded from the lower bunk as I tried to make my way onto the floor as quietly as I could. Leaving the cell, I grabbed for her rifle that leaned against the wall. I hated when she left it there. It just seemed too casual for something that could end a life in less than a second.

"Takin' a walk, sweet thang?" Merle commented as I opened the door to the common area. I shot him a cold glare, taking mind to keep my finger on the trigger of the gun at all times. He sat huddled in the corner. It looked as if he hadn't slept all night; bags of exhaustion drooped below his eyes in a way that reminded me much of Daryl. A devious smirk planted on his cracked, dry lips.

"It would be in your better interest to keep that big mouth of yours shut," I threatened, yanking the door to the prison open as harshly as I could. His annoying laughter haunted my ears as I closed it behind me.

The crisp, cold air smacked against my face as soon as I stepped outside. If it had not been for the monotone groans of the walkers down below, the morning would have been peaceful. Part of me craved for a cup of coffee and a clichéd book. Instead, I held a rifle and tasted only the foul leftovers of squirrel from the night before.

A cloud of smoke wafted across my face. I turned from it, curling my nose at the smell. Cigarette smoke had never been one of my favorite scents. Instead of moving from it, I turned the corner, eyeing the source. Daryl stood, leaned against the brick wall, a half-finished cigarette between his fingers. His eyes remained closed as he brought it to his lips, inhaled, and exhaled another puff of smoke.

"Isn't it a little early to be destroying your lungs?" I questioned, giving a boastful smirk. Daryl's eyes cracked open, glanced me over, then closed once more.

"Never too early."

I turned my back to him, placing my focus on the walkers. They didn't seem to notice our location, but even if they did, we were safe where we were. Another chainlink fence stood between us and them.

"Why are you smoking out here?" I asked as I stuck a few of my fingers through the fence. "Rick doesn't have a problem with it."

"Didn't want to smoke 'round Little Ass-Kicker," Daryl answered. "And my damn brother bums 'em off me."

"Can I have one?"

My question surprised even me. It seemed as if the words flew from my mouth with a mind of their own. Even still, I didn't take it back. I only watched him sideways through the grungy curtain of my hair. He gave me a strange look, probably thinking I was joking with him.

"I tell you that my brother bums 'em off me, and now you're wantin' to bum one?" he inquired suspiciously. "You even smoke before?"

I shook my head before glancing back at the wandering dead. "No," I replied truthfully. "But I mean, the world has already gone to hell. Might as well start now."

Daryl took the cigarette from his lips and handed it toward me. Awkwardly, I took it between my pointer and middle finger like I'd seen people on the streets and in movies do and placed it in my mouth. My chest burned as I inhaled, followed by embarrassing and loud coughing. I turned from him, covering my mouth with one hand while handing him back his death stick.

Through my teary eyes, I could see the arrogant smirk on his lips as he took another drag from the cigarette. He made it look so easy that I almost wanted to try it again just to prove to him that I could do it, but the horrid taste in my mouth told me to rethink my next actions.

"That's horrible," I told him between short coughs. "Why do you even do that?"

Daryl gave me a halfhearted shrug, looking back out toward the walkers. "Can't hardly find these anymore, so I gotta enjoy 'em when I can." He inhaled once more, closing his eyes in indulgence. "Even with the end of the world, smokin' is still hard to quit."

I hoisted Adeline's gun strap over my shoulder once more before shaking my head at him. "If the walkers don't kill you, those will," I warned him, only half-jokingly.

Another shrug. "Everyone's gotta go out somehow."

o-o-o

"How many didja shoot?"

"Shut up, Merle."

"Let me take a guess," Merle taunted from his unyielding spot in the corner. He tapped his finger on his lips, seemingly in deep thought as he studied me. I tried to hurry to unlock the barred door to the rest of the cell block. "Seeing as you aren't shakin' or cryin' or any shit like that, I'd have to say you ain't killed a damn thing."

Something about him made my blood come to a boil almost instantly. I wanted to punch him spare in the jaw, but his bladed hand intimidated me. Although, a bullet probably did travel fast than he could, but I couldn't do that to Daryl.

"Out there makin' out with my baby brother, weren't you?"

The key ring that I had borrowed from Adeline fell to the floor with an echoing clank. Face on fire, I rushed to pick them from the concrete. "No," I told him without turning toward him. "I didn't even know he was out there."

From the corner of my eye, I could see him stand and lean against the wall behind him. "Uh-huh," he muttered. "I'll believe that as soon as I see monkeys flyin' and shit. I've seen the way you look at 'im. You wanna get all up his business, huh?"

"Shut up, Merle," I growled through gritted teeth, my shaking hands desperately trying to push the right key through the hole. There were only three keys, but I couldn't calm myself enough to aim straight.

"Ain't a wasted effort, I'll tell you that. I've seen the way he looks at you. You two're like a couple of horny 15-year-olds. Ain't gonna say shit to each other, but you're gonna undress him with your eyes all you damn well please."

Tears of anger, humiliation, and frustration filled my eyes. I wiped at them with the sleeve of my shirt before finally inserting the right key in. The door I had just come through opened and Daryl entered, stashing an unfinished cigarette back into the pack. He stopped, eyed Merle and me, then asked, "The hell's going on?"

Merle shook his head, using the wall to support himself as he slid back down onto his butt. "Aw, nothin' much, little brother. Just havin' a friendly chat with Harper."

I refused to turn to look at him or even acknowledge his presence, but at the same time, I quivered with rage. Only when Daryl's hand curled around mine to push the key to the side did I move. I glanced up at him. He returned my stare with curiosity. I knew he didn't believe his brother.

"If you hurry," he muttered under his breath, "you could probably sleep for another hour before the baby starts cryin'."

His eyes urged me to leave immediately and I didn't question it.


	16. Defense

"Maggie, Harper, I'm going to need you two on watch," Rick ordered, handing me a gun of my own. It was almost the exact same as my sister's, just with a few more scrapes and nicks. I gave a quick nod, wrapping the strap around myself.

"I could get up in the guard tower," Daryl suggested as he pulled his winged vest over his arms, making his way down from the catwalk. I could still taste the cigarette on my tongue from a few hours before. "Take out half the walkers, give 'em a fightin' chance to fix the fence."

While they planned over how to remedy our current situation, Maggie checked my gun to make sure it was fully loaded. She smiled to herself as Judith's short cry echoed from Beth's cell. She and Adeline had spent the morning getting her bathed as best they could with what little water bottles we had left and changed with the remainder of the diapers. Daryl had already volunteered to make another run for more later in the day and I took the first chance I could to go with him.

"We're trapped in here," Glenn announced, his voice tight with animosity. "There's barely any food or water or ammo."

"Been here before. We'll be all right," Daryl answered.

"That's when it was just us, before there was a snake in the nest."

"I agree with Glenn," I said, my words flying from my mouth before I had the chance to take them back. Merle's prodding words came back to my mind as Daryl's eyes narrowed into a glower. "Having more people here is making it harder to keep supplies."

Before I could step away, the man was only inches from my face. Maggie let the gun hang by my side as she moved away from us, but ready to hold either one of us back from killing each other if needed. "Why don't we get rid of your dumb ass then?" Daryl snapped. "We really gotta go through this shit again? Merle's stayin' here. He's with us now. Get used to it, Barbie."

Rick grabbed at his arm. "Dary—"

"All ya'll," Daryl added before yanking his arm away. He turned his back to us and made his way back up the catwalk. Although I refused to look at him, I could feel his glare on me from above.

Maggie placed a hand on my back, offering a sympathetic smile. "You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm good," I answered, clearing my throat and hoisting the gun to my back. "Just learning what ticks Daryl off."

o-o-o

"Its bothering you, isn't it?" Carl asked, the binoculars pressed hard against his eyes. I peered through the sights of my own gun on his left while Maggie mirrored me on his right. We stood where Daryl and I had shared our cigarette moment that morning and oddly enough, I found myself wanting to try another one.

"What is?" I replied.

"Merle being here."

"No," I lied before letting out a heavy sigh. "Well, yeah. I don't know. I think so. Its just that he's so rude and disgusting and crude and—"

Maggie cut me off. "You aren't used to people like that, huh?"

"Not at all." I focused on a single walker: a woman who looked to be about my age wearing nursing scrubs. For a moment, I thought it to be ironic, but I knew better than to think that some people were more immune than others. "I've never had to deal with people like him or like Daryl, for that matter."

Maggie lowered her gun, giving me a scrutinizing stare. "Who were you with before Rick and Daryl found you two?"

Their faces flashed in my mind. A swirling, painful ball of grief settled in my gut before I answered her. "My father was the first one to become infected. He got to my mother the same night. Our butler was able to kill both of them before I even realized what was going on, but Adeline already knew. She was already prepared for something like this. She knew where our father hid his guns. She knew where all the spare canned food was. She just knew. So, we followed her lead until…"

I lowered my gun to wipe at my eyes with the backs of my hands. As much as I tried to block out their memory, it always came back in short waves of sorrow, swallowing me and retreating just as quickly as the ocean on a shoreline.

"Did he die?" Carl inquired. "Your butler, I mean."

"Yeah," I replied. "About a week before you guys found us. It happened while we were sleeping. He screamed loud enough to wake us up and told us to go. I wanted to stay back and help, but Adeline dragged me away. I guess I would've been a goner if she hadn't."

"Where were you heading?"

"We were on our way—"

"Hey, there's something weird out there," he interrupted, lifting a finger to point toward the surrounding forest. Maggie and I hurried to lift our guns again, following his direction through the sights.

It was a woman – a _living_ woman – trudging through the bushes with a walker in front of her. The walker was held with an elongated clasp, the arms and jaw missing from the body. Who exactly was this lady and how was she able to capture a walker like that?

Maggie turned to Carl and whispered, "Andrea. Get your dad and the others."

o-o-o

"You all live here?" Andrea asked. She had hurried to change the subject of everyone we had lost when it became apparent that nobody wanted to speak about it. Adeline and Beth's voices echoed into the common area as they sang lullabies to Judith, trying their hardest to get her to sleep. The infant was hungry and we were scraping the bottom of the barrel to find her anything to eat.

"Here and the cell block," Glenn answered, his arms crossed over his chest defensively.

Nobody had completely lowered their walls since Andrea entered the building. I kept my hands on my gun at all times, Merle watched her like we watched him, Daryl held his crossbow proudly, and even Rick made it a point to keep at least a finger on his pistol at his side.

Andrea was a petite woman, probably in her early thirties. Her hair reminded me much of my own: blonde, thick, and dirty as all hell. Her clothes, though, were tight-fitting, but looked comfortable. It was no secret that she had been living in the lap of luxury for quite some time.

"In there?" she questioned, lifting a finger toward the source of singing. "Can I go in?" Without waiting for an answer, she started toward the barred door. Daryl and I, almost as if we had rehearsed it, stood to block her movements.

"I won't allow that," Rick told her from Hershel's side.

"I'm not an enemy!" she retorted, her eyes focused solely on mine. I refused to lower my gaze.

"We had that field and courtyard until your boyfriend decided to come and tear down the fence with a truck and shoot us up," he explained to her.

"He even killed one of ours," I threw in, biting the inside of my cheek. Even though he was annoying and creepy, I missed Axel terribly. He was the only one of the group who seemed to try to make everyone else laugh at his own expense.

Andrea's eyes widened before she turned and looked at Rick. "He said you fired first."

"Well, he's lying."

She glanced around desperately, meeting everyone's accusing stare one at a time. "I didn't even know you were in Woodbury until after the shoot-out. I came as soon as I found out."

"That was days ago."

Michonne, who had been lurking about the room the entire time we questioned Andrea, finally stepped forward. She leaned against the wall, a smug expression written clearly on her face. Once the blonde's attention turned from us, Daryl took a sat on the top of the table next to him. Hesitantly, I sat on the adjoining chair.

"What have you told them?" Andrea demanded to know from the samurai, who gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Nothing," she answered.

"I don't get it," Andrea called, tears blurring her vision as she turned to face us. "I left Atlanta with you people and now I'm the odd man out? And who the hell are you?" She lifted a bitter finger toward me.

I stood, anger instantly filling me as my mouth opened to yell out whatever popped into my mind. Before I could, however, Daryl put a hand on my shoulder to silence me and answered, "Ain't none of your damn business who she is. She sure as hell ain't betrayed us."

Absolutely confused, I turned and gave him a questioning look. He seemed too busy waiting for Andrea to argue against him to pay attention to me. Just a few hours ago, he was yelling in my face and now he's defending me? Daryl Dixon certainly was a book that changed languages every minute.

"The Governor almost killed Michonne and he would've killed us," Glenn tried explaining to her, but before he could continue, Andrea lifted her hand toward Merle.

"With his finger on the trigger! Isn't he the one who kidnapped you, who beat you?" As if giving up, she covered her mouth with her hands and shut her eyes tightly. "Look," she continued, dropping her hands, "I cannot excuse or explain what Philip has done, but I am here trying to bring us together. We have to work this out."

"There's nothing to work out," Rick told her. "We're going to kill him. I don't know how or when, but we will."

"We can settle this." Her voice sounded pathetic, defeated. "There is room at Woodbury for all of you."

For the first time since our group gathered, Merle opened his mouth in his usual raspy, annoying chortle. "You should know better than that."

"What makes you think this man wants to negotiate?" Hershel asked. "Did he say that?"

"No."

"Then what are you trying to do?" I said, finally allowing my body to relax enough to sit back down near Daryl's feet. "The Governor sure as hell didn't send you. What if you're just making everything worse?"

Andrea scowled at me, pushing her shoulders back. If she thought it made me feel intimidated, she was wrong. Something about her irked me and I wasn't about to just stand down and cower in her presence. "These people are my friends," she explained. "I was with them probably much longer than you've been with them. I came here to tell you that he's gearing up for war. The people are terrified. They see you as killers. They're training to attack."

"And you wanted us to go back with you?" I reproached. "Go back to what? A town full of pissed off people ready to kill us at the snap of the Governor's fingers? Are you insane?"

"Tell you what," Daryl added, tapping his foot against my thigh to signal me to calm down, "next time you see the Governor, you tell him I'm gonna take his other eye."

"We've taken too much shit for too long," Glenn said. "He wants a war? He's got one."

Desperately, Andrea turned to Rick. "If you don't sit down and try to work this out, I don't know what's going to happen. He has a whole town. Look at you." Something in her eyes changed as she turned her attention back toward the rest of us. Something fake. Something indifferent. "You've all lost so much. You can't stand alone anymore."

"If these people are your friends," I started, standing once more, "then why don't you help us out?"

"Harper's right," Rick said. "You want to make this right, get us inside."

"No."

"Then we have nothin' to talk about."

Rick walked from her, ignoring her pleas for the innocent people inside the town. Once the heavy iron doors slammed shut, her eyes met mine once more in a furious glower. "If you would've just kept your damn mouth shut, gir—"

Daryl stood, gently placing a hand on her shoulder and shoving her from me. "Don't get your panties in a wad just 'cause your little plan didn't work, Andrea," he warned.

Her eyes never left mine as Daryl grabbed my arm and led me from her.


	17. Family First

I felt incredibly sick. Not the cold sweat and vomit kind of sick, but the kind where I felt – where I knew – something bad was going to happen, and yet I had absolutely no power to stop it or even understand what it was.

Part of me wanted to believe it was Andrea's presence. Since the second she arrived at the prison, I felt uneasy. I knew I wasn't the only one; Daryl also had a lingering tenseness about him. Even more than usual, he fidgeted with small objects, often an empty cigarette pack or a stick, and avoided people like they had some sort of disease.

I could hear Andrea's voice echo off the walls as she talked with Carol. Their tone was much too hushed to be understood, so instead of trying to eavesdrop from the dark cell, I grabbed for my gun and headed outside, ignoring Merle's loud snores as I hurried through the common room.

Squinting hard against the sun's rays, I spied my sister and Daryl watching over the field with their guns as Michonne carefully slashed through walkers. As I hurried to them, I couldn't help but take notice of her grace. It was almost as if she was dancing instead of re-killing people. If only it were as easy as she made it seem.

"Oh, hey," Adeline muttered, detecting me from the corner of her eye. She didn't lift her face from the scope of the gun, but she smiled. "I didn't think you'd ever decide to come outside."

"Yeah, well, I don't know how much longer I can take being around Andrea. There's just something about her," I responded. Part of me hoped Daryl would say anything in agreement, but he refused to acknowledge me.

Adeline gave a small shrug. "I kind of like her," she answered. "I mean, yeah, she seems a little hard to get along with, but I'm sure she's a good person."

Only then did Daryl lower his gun from the fence. "Ain't no good people left," he commented before turning his back to us and heading back toward the prison. "Why don't you do somethin' useful and take my place, Barbie?"

"He's still going on about the Barbie thing?" my sister asked, setting her sights on a walker behind Michonne. I heard her inhale and watched her finger fly toward the trigger, but before she had the chance to shoot, the woman down below turned and sliced clean through the throat, smirking to herself as the decaying head rolled off.

"He only calls me that when he's pissed at me. Hey, do you got this? I told Beth I'd help her with a few things."

"Yeah, sure."

Without hesitation, I jogged to Daryl, catching up to him in only a matter of seconds. He stared forward, his eyes fixed in a constant glare. For a moment, I waited for him to say something to me, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn't going to happen.

"Still mad at me?" I finally inquired just before we reached the metal door to the prison. Daryl stopped, his hand resting on the handle, and forced his eyes shut tightly as if my words were giving him a headache. Maybe they were, but I didn't care. "You only call me Barbie when you're mad at me."

"I call you Barbie," he answered, his jaw firm, "'cause you look like a damn Barbie doll."

Just as he tried to pull the door open, I pushed his hand. "So you're saying you're not mad at me?"

"You're annoyin', you know that? Why do you care so much if I'm pissed at you?"

Once again, Daryl attempted to escape my constant badgering by retreating into the building. And once again, I prevented it by stepping directly in front of him. "Because I hate being called Barbie and you treat me like garbage when you're upset with me."

He pushed me from my spot, rough enough to get his point across but gently enough to be sure that I wouldn't topple over onto the concrete. "Maybe if you stopped actin' like garbage, I wouldn't treat you like it."

The door slammed behind him and as much as I wanted to chase after him, screaming and yelling the entire way, I forced myself to stay where I was. Keeping myself calm when I was furious was never one of my strong points, so even breathing and counting down from ten in my head was almost like torture.

"Havin' a lover's quarrel, huh?" Merle brusquely commented once I finally did allow myself into the prison. I stopped short, my hands balled into fists at my side, and turned to face him. He stood in the corner, a boatsful smile on his ugly face.

"I don't need to hear your voice right now, Merle," I told him through gritted teeth. I feverishly blinked my tears of embarrassment back and mentally kicked myself for crying every time I felt upset.

A loud banging noise caused me to jolt and hurry for my gun before I realized it was just Daryl slamming the door to his cell shut. Merle nodded to himself, as if knowing he would do that. "If I were you, I wouldn't try talkin' to 'im right now. But, uh," he warned, letting out a short chuckle, "I gotta hand it to you. I ain't seen 'im like this in a long time. You must've done something real screwed up to piss 'im off like this."

I studied him for a moment as if his figure held the reason why Daryl was so bad. And then, it clicked.

"Daryl really cares about you," I told Merle, who rolled his eyes at my words.

"Well, no shit. I'm his older brother, the only one he's ever really gonna have in this fucked up world. Always has been, always will be."

I nodded and as I walked from him, I tried my hardest to ignore his taunts and insults. Everything about Daryl was starting to make sense. The way he treated me, the way he closed himself off from people, even the way he looked at his brother.

Luckily, the cell block was empty. Carol and Beth were outside, tending to a small garden that they were trying to start but miserably failing at. Carl and Rick had joined my sister and Michonne to help with the walkers. Andrea had taken Judith for a small walk outside, which I wasn't entirely sure I was comfortable with, but Glenn, Maggie, and Hershel had stuck her to like glue.

"I get it," I told Daryl, forcing the cell door open. I tried to hold in my grunts of effort, but the thing was incredibly heavy.

"Get the hell out," he ordered, swinging his feet over onto the floor from his bed.

"I get it, Daryl. I get why you act like this toward me, why I'm always the one that you treat like crap." Finally, the door opened and I forced myself inside before he had the chance to close it on me. I wasn't sure if I had the energy to pull it open again.

"What're you talkin' about?" he demanded to know.

"Merle has it so ingrained in your brain that he's the only one that cares for you that you can't handle anyone else worrying about you, or wanting to help you, or showing you any kind of affection at all!" I replied, my voice raising in volume every other word. "That's why you don't like me. You don't like me because I do worry about you and I do want to help you. You don't want to accept that people other than Merle actually care about you because you're scared!"

Daryl stood, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He towered over me and glared daggers into my skull. "You don't know shit about me, or Merle, for that matter. Why don't you get the hell out of my cell and keep your nose out of my damn business, Barbie?"

I stood my ground, my breathing ragged and my eyes brimming with tears once more. "Why are you so scared of me, Dixon?" I taunted. Half of me wanted to truly get to the bottom of our problems, but the other half wanted to rile him up more to see how much more information I could get from him.

"Get out," he hissed lowly, "of my cell."

We stared each other down for what felt like hours before I finally pulled my gaze. I yanked the cell door open again, shaking my head at him. Once it was closed again, I inhaled deeply and faced him, wrapping my hands around the bars.

"You know what?" I said. "I understand why you're mad at me this time. It's about Merle. Don't worry, I get it. Family first. Always has been, always will be."


	18. Hold On

The tension that settled over the group as Andrea said her goodbyes to Rick was almost too uncomfortable to bear. We all watched her like hawks, still not entirely trusting her but trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. She gave a soft smile to our leader, but the setting sun blinded his vision of it. Rick continued to stare at her with cold eyes.

Adeline and I stood at the gates, ready to pull them open for the car that we were giving her to go back to Woodbury in. I thought it was a horrible idea. Cars were beginning to become hard to come by; most of them were either out of fuel or had their insides stolen by ravagers along the roads. Still, the majority of the group decided for it, so that was that.

"Well, take care," Andrea muttered, walking toward the driver's side of the car. As she sat in the seat, her eyes connected with mine for a brief moment and all my bitter feelings came rushing back. I couldn't find it in myself to trust her.

I looked away, focusing on something else. Unfortunately, that something else was Daryl. Although our argument happened over three hours ago, I still felt some kind of irritation with him. More than anything, I just wanted him to explain why I was the brunt of all his rage. I wanted to know if it was personal or if I was unknowingly doing things to make him mad.

"Andrea," Rick said, stopping her from starting the car. He approached the window and handed her a small pocket knife and a hand gun. "Be careful."

Starting the engine, she nodded. "You, too."

As soon as she drove the car past the gate, I hurried to pull my side of the gate shut. Adeline's longing gaze struck me as I glanced toward her. "Are you going to shut it or are we just going to invite the walkers in?" I asked, snapping her from her thoughts. Without a word, she slammed her side closed.

o-o-o

From my cell, I could hear Hershel's small coughs, Judith's short cries, and the crackle of the fire that Beth had started. The day felt as though it had dragged on for weeks, causing me to feel more exhausted than I probably was. Interaction with the group was one of the very last things I wanted so I kept myself away to linger in my own thoughts.

As much as Carol tried convincing me that Andrea was good just like everyone else, I couldn't believe her. Something about the woman made me edgy and anxious, like being in a room with a snarling dog on a chain. The older woman told me that Andrea would stop the Governor from the inside and that I needed to put my faith in her. How could I do that when I felt so negatively about her?

I picked at the loose strings of the mattress above me as I allowed my mind to wander to Daryl. Thinking on it, maybe approaching him the way I did wasn't such a good idea. The outcome I wanted definitely didn't happen.

It wasn't that I wanted Daryl to spill his entire life story to me like we were childhood best friends. I just wanted to understand him so I knew why it was always me. If he chose both Adeline and me to take his anger out on, I wouldn't be so curious, but that wasn't the case.

A quick rap of knuckles on my cell door jolted my body up. The man that conquered my thoughts leaned against the cold metal, a can of Campbell's soup in his hand. "Here," he mumbled as he held it out for me.

"I'm not hungry," I lied, lying back on the bed and rolling to face the wall.

"It's the last one, so you should enjoy it."

I heard the thin metal of the can hit the ground softly and Daryl's footfalls leading back down the catwalk. As much as I didn't want to give in to his gesture, my stomach forced me otherwise. With a loud grumble from my abdomen, I sat up and reached over to grab it from the floor. A plastic spoon had been placed in it and as I swirled it and brought it to my lips, I savored the taste of Minestrone on my tongue.

"They hung a sign up in our town," Beth's voice echoed as she sang. Goosebumps rose on my arms and legs at her song. The girl had an amazing voice. "If you live it up, you won't live it down."

"That," Daryl said, showing himself from around the corner once more. I stopped mid-bite and stared up at him. "That's why you piss me off."

"What?" I answered after swallowing. I wrapped my fingers around the warm can, trying to rid myself of the chills.

He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, nodding toward the can. "Unless I'm savin' your life, you're too damn proud to let me do anythin' even a little nice for you because _you're_ scared of _me._"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes as I placed the can between my feet. "Scared of you?" I repeated, standing straight. "You've got to be kidding me, Dixon."

"Nah, I ain't kiddin' you, Barbie," he kept on before I had a chance to continue. His words flew from his mouth loud enough for only me to hear. "You're so goddamn spoiled that you're used to people doin' everythin' for you, includin' your sister. But now that the world's gone to hell, you think if anyone does shit for you, you gotta owe 'em. And you don't want that."

My mouth dropped at what he was saying just when I noticed that Beth's voice seemed to be getting louder. "You've got to hold on, hold on. You've got to hold on. Take my hand, I'm standing right here. You've got to hold on."

"That's not true," I defended, my voice wavering. As much as I didn't want Daryl to be right, he was. I couldn't stand knowing that I owed someone something. "You're just—"

"This ain't 'bout me!" he snapped as he took a step closer. "This is 'bout you! You don't know what the hell you want from me 'cause you think you'll owe me somethin'. That's it, isn't it? The whole time you've been here, that's been your problem with me. You're confused and scared and you don't know nothin'."

I didn't know what to say to him. I couldn't think of anything to use to rebuke what he was telling me because honestly, he was right. All I could do was wrap my arms around myself, trying to create a barrier between the two of us.

Beth's voice echoed through, haunting us between heavy glares and sweaty palms. "Everyone is looking for someone to blame. If you share my bed, you share my name. Well, go ahead and call the cops. You don't meet nice girls in coffee shops. She said, 'Baby, I still love you.' Sometimes there's nothing else left to do."

"Just go away," I told Daryl when I realized that he wasn't going to back down. "Leave me alone."

Daryl shook his head, a sarcastic huff coming from his mouth. "Hell no," he told me. "Not 'til you tell me what the hell you want from me, Harper."

"I don't want anything from you!" I retorted, wiping furiously at the tears that freely fell from my eyes. "You think you know everything about me because you know one part of my past? Are you crazy? You don't know anything about me!"

"And you think you know everythin' about me 'cause you talked to my brother."

I shook my head, kicking the can of soup over as I tried to make my way past him. Before I could get through the doorway, however, Daryl moved in front of me, blocking me from leaving. I stood still for a moment, trying to gather myself.

"Move, Dixon."

"Did I piss you off?" he asked mockingly. "Just tell me what you want from me so you ain't confused anymore."

My breaths came out in short hiccups as I turned toward him. I focused on a healing cut on his chest before lifting my gaze to his face. Intense blue eyes stared back at me, waiting for my words to sound.

"I don't," I started. Before I continued, I thought my words over. "I just want you to stop being an asshole all the damn time toward me. And I want you to let people care about you and I want you to stop listening to everything Merle makes you believe because he isn't right! I care about you, okay? I really do. And I don't want you thinking that I don't."

I didn't think my actions through, but once I pressed myself into him, allowing my head to fall onto his chest and my arms to wrap around his waist, I remembered the last time I did something like this. Just after Daryl had taught me to shoot and I landed my first hit, I had flung myself on him in an awkward hug, which was quickly rejected.

But this time was completely different. I felt his body tense at my touch. Before I could move away from him, though, his arm snaked around me, holding me tight against him. His chin rested on the top of my head.

"…hold on, hold on. You've got to hold on. Take my hand, I'm standing right here. You've got to hold on…"


	19. Plans

A/N: Hello everyone! Just wanted to give a quick thank you for sticking with me through this story and my sporadic updates. I turned 21 over the past week and have been celebrating with friends.

Also, you may have noticed that the title of the story has changed from "The Mess We've Made" to "My Saving Grace." Sorry about that decision! I just feel as though it's going to fit the plot a lot better. Everything will stay the same, though.

Thank you again for taking the time out of your day to read this!

* * *

><p>"What do you think is going to happen?" Adeline inquired, pulling another box of ramen noodles off the shelf. She kept her voice low; walkers roamed the outside streets and Daryl roamed the other side of the grocery store.<p>

Another day, another run. Our routine supply gatherings quickly became part of our life with the group. They came frequently and when they did, I always tried to volunteer myself to go. Life in the prison was safe, for the most part, but tiringly boring. Other than guarding the fence, pushing off the walkers, and tending to the pitiful garden, there wasn't much else to do except think about our old lives and feel an overwhelming sense of melancholy.

"About what?" I answered as I turned a can of beans over in my palm, searching for an expiration date. The label had been worn and the only way I could identify the contents was by bringing it only centimeters from my face. When I didn't find a date, I shrugged and tossed it into my backpack, feeling it land on another package of diapers we had found.

My sister nudged an empty cardboard box with her foot before lifting her gaze to my face. "This Governor guy. I mean, maybe Andrea was right. Maybe we should go live in Woodbury. Sounds like they've got it good there."

I glanced around, eyeing Daryl's figure to make sure he didn't hear what she said. He seemed to be lost in his own world. "Are you listening to yourself?" I hissed as I approached Adeline. "You want to go live with the guy who shot up the prison and killed Axel? Are you forgetting what he did to Maggie and Glenn?"

She whirled around, her back facing me, as a cold expression fell over her face. She refused to say another word to me yet alone acknowledge I even existed. After a moment of painful silenced tension, I shook my head and continued to rummage through shelves of molded bread, broken glass, and half emptied boxes of food that left no trace.

I swung my backpack over my shoulders and inspected my findings: peanut butter, spaghetti noodles, powdered milk, diapers, and rice. It seemed like a fruitful run, but when I thought about it in terms to our group's size, my hopeful outlook quickly diminished. I closed the knapsack, slipping my arms back through the straps, and went on with my gathering.

Coming to the "chips/soft drinks" aisle, I thought back to my mother. She was always so adamant about healthy eating that neither Adeline nor I ever got to experience what it was like to be a cavity-riddled kid who ate candy bars and drank soda every day. It was always water, celery sticks, and seaweed chips. As I made my way through the empty boxes and bags, I searched for anything that could still be considered edible. Unfortunately, I made it to the end of the aisle empty-handed.

A short yelp flew from my mouth as I rounded the sharp corner. Walking into him, Daryl's face became the cushion for my face. It instantaneously felt hot as I backed from him and smoothed out my dingy hair and clothes.

"Watch where the hell you're goin'," he snapped and turned his back to me. "Find anythin'?"

"A few things, yeah," I answered. No matter how hard I tried to rid the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment, it persistently stuck to me. "I found some food and more diapers. You?"

His reply was a halfhearted grunt. He began to walk from me, but when a loud clatter echoed throughout the store, he kneeled and hissed for me to hurry to him. I copied his movements, grabbing my gun from my waist as I scurried to his side. Silence settled over us for only a moment before shouting erupted.

"Hell no! Find your own!" It was Adeline's voice.

My heart began to thump painfully in my chest. Someone had seen her and possibly attacked her. Or worse, they had captured her. Without thinking, I started full-speed down the nearest aisle, heading for her voice. Before I was able to get too far, however, Daryl's fingers curled around the scruff of my shirt and yanked me back into him. We toppled onto the floor in a mess of struggling against each other.

"What're you doin'?!" Daryl snapped in a low growl. He held my hands together by my wrists as I tried to thrash from him. "You run in there all crazy and shit, and they'll kill her for sure."

Tears of panic brimmed my eyes, but I knew he was right. If I charged at them, guns firing off every bullet I had left, it would put all three of us in a bad situation. I looked at Daryl for a plan – anything that could save my sister and get us out without being killed.

"Remember when I threw you into those guys back at the sportin' goods store?" Daryl asked, his voice sounding much quicker than I was used to hearing. "Well, do you?" I could only nod. "We're gonna do the same thing."

o-o-o

"Hey!" I shouted, approaching the two men harassing my sister. As soon as my eyes settled on them, my heart plummeted. They were huge in both height and weight. Muscles seemed to bulge at every part of their clothing. One of them, a younger man with a black eye and a shaved head, held my sister in place while the other rummaged through her backpack.

The three of them turned to look at me and I could see Adeline smile in relief. She didn't seem to be harmed in any way, but it was obvious from the way her hair looked as though a tornado rolled through that she put up quite a scuffle.

"Aw, lookit here, Troy," the older man cooed as if he were talking to a baby. "We got another one of them models."

"Let my sister go," I demanded. Although I was scared shitless, I tried to reinforce as much confidence as I could into my voice.

Adeline narrowed her eyes toward me, her smile disappearing into a stern frown. "Harper, get out of here!" she ordered. "Just get back in the car and leave!"

Troy let out a bark of a laugh. "Yeah, Harper," he called mockingly, "why don't you listen to your sister here? This don't concern you, 'less you'd rather get mixed up in it." He threw a pathetic excuse of a seductive wink my way. A shiver of disgust ran through me.

I lifted my hands in surrender as I began to cautiously walk toward them. "If you're going to take my sister, take me too," I offered. "She's the only one I have left now."

Fury exploded on my sister's face as she continued to wriggle in Troy's grasp. "What the _hell_ are you doing?!" she screamed. "Just leave!"

My eyes locked on the guns the men carried. They both sported a rifle on their backs along with a handgun on either side of their hips. Next to the intimidating pieces of metal, knives were carefully tied with worn strips of rope. This was not going to be easy.

"Get her, Mark," Troy ordered.

Without hesitation, the older man strolled toward me. I wanted to punch the sly grin on his face right off. Instead, I let him grab me roughly in the same manner that Troy held Adeline: his right arm around my throat and his left hand holding back my arms. He was so much bigger than me and I knew I had no chance to fight him off.

"Let her go!" my sister screamed, tears cascading down her cheeks. She seemed to have given up on trying to get away from Troy.

I allowed Mark to drag me back toward the other two. From the corner of my eye, I saw Daryl run past an aisle toward the end. The man behind me shook with a guffaw, his hands sliding my shirt up over my head.

"I like your thinkin', dude," Troy commented, trying to undress my sister. Unlike me, she found the energy to put up another struggle against him. My lips quivered with fear as I felt my bra clasp come undone against my bare back.

A sharp gust of air flew by my face as an arrow stuck into Mark's head. I felt his body slump against mine and watched as another landed right between Troy's eyes. Blood spurted over both Adeline and me as we hurried away from the bodies. I pushed the larger man over, retrieving my clothing as I pressed my arm against my chest.

"Are you kidding me?" Adeline asked calmly. Then, her voice rose. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!"

Daryl emerged from the shadows of the aisle, giving me a quick glance before turning his gaze to my furious sister. "That don't seem like a nice 'thank you' to me," he commented as he walked past me. Pulling the arrows from the heads of our attackers, he dutifully avoided even peeking at my body.

I turned around, facing the back of the store as I pulled my bra back on followed by my shirt. I stopped short, realizing that it had been ripped down the middle. Sighing heavily, I put it over my shoulders. At least I got a new vest out of the excursion.

"You expect me to thank you when my sister almost got raped?" Adeline snapped, her hands balling into tight fists at her sides. Daryl tossed me my gun and gave her a tiny shrug.

"Did you die? Nah, you didn't. You're welcome. Let's go."

Her body shaking with a storm of rage, she turned to me, looking for any help. I only smiled, knowing that Daryl was right. Sure, the plan was reckless and so many things could've gone wrong, but at least he had a plan whereas I just froze and panicked. And a small part of me knew that the plan would work because Daryl was there.

After we loaded our guns and new resources into the trunk of the tiny car we'd driven here, I called, "Shotgun!" and hurried to the passenger's side. I expected the two to be right behind me, but they remained at the back, glowering ferociously at each other.

The only thing I could hear was Daryl's tight voice saying, "I ain't gonna let anythin' happen to her, all right? Ever."


	20. Not Even The Rain

Rain pelted the car as we sat idly on the side of the road. The damn thing had run out of gas long ago and with only five more miles to the prison, Daryl, Adeline, and I decided it would be best to wait out the terrible weather instead of trying to brave it on foot. My sister had fallen asleep in the back seat almost as soon as we came to a stop, leaving me to listen to Daryl's low mumbles about how the hell rain could be falling from the sky in the middle of spring.

"It happens," I tried to reason as I kicked my feet up on the dashboard. "Maybe now Carol can get something growing in that garden of hers."

Daryl didn't seem to agree. He let out an annoyed sigh and rested his elbow on the windowsill of the driver's side door. As he cracked open the window, his free hand fished in his vest pocket for the pack of cigarettes that seemed to be lasting forever.

"Can you not?" I hurried to ask before he had the chance to light it. He casted a sideways glare at me before pushing the cigarette back into the box.

Aside from Adeline's soft snores at the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the car, we sat in silence for longer than I could keep track of. I wished I could turn on the radio and hum along to some overplayed song, but I knew the only thing I could hear would be static. Thinking on it, though, I wasn't sure if I preferred that or the maddening quiet between Daryl and me.

"Nice weather we're having, huh?" I joked, receiving a soft grunt of acknowledgement in return. He seemed to be too busy inspecting a new cut on his right hand to be interested in anything I had to say. Still, I kept talking. "When we were little, Adeline would cry whenever a thunderstorm rolled over us. She hid under the blankets and refused to come out until our parents came and got her."

Instead of ignoring me like I expected him to do, Daryl yawned softly and laced his fingers together behind his head. "I'd give Merle's left nut to have thunderstorm be the only thing we were afraid of," he answered gravely. I couldn't tell if he was teasing me or if there was some underlying meaning to his words.

"Why not _your_ left nut?" I questioned.

"'Cause it's mine and I actually give a shit 'bout my balls."

My laugh almost jolted Adeline awake. I covered my mouth until it passed, then allowed it to fall into my lap. Settling my eyes on the rain outside, I placed my forehead on the cold window. Luckily the remaining air from the heater will lingered around the three of us, but I began to wonder how long it would last.

"You have a pool at your house?" Daryl inquired, looking out his own window. The question caught me off guard.

"Yeah," I answered. "We did. It was in the backyard."

"Got a two-car garage?"

"Um, actually it was a four-car. Why're you asking?"

He shook his head while shrugging. "Curious. What'd you do with that make-up you snagged from Cabela's?"

I'd long-forgotten about the make-up. I wore it once, just before Daryl took off with his brother; just simple eye-liner, some eye shadow, and mascara. Instead of complimenting me like I was used to, Daryl only wrinkled his nose in disgust and turned away from me. At the time, I didn't care much for his opinion of me, but the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me until eventually, I pushed his reaction from my mind completely.

"Threw it out," I replied bitterly. "It took up too much room in our cell." I traced small designs onto the condensation on the windows. The cold was beginning to creep its way into the car; my ears and nose started to sting.

"Good," Daryl said sharply. "It looked like shit on you."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes as I turned my head to glower at him. "God, shut the hell up, Dixon. Do you still have a prob—"

"I meant," he interrupted, turning his own head to face me, "that you look better without it. Take the damn compliment, girl."

And to think I almost missed it. "You didn't call me Barbie," I pointed out.

As if my statement had embarrassed him, Daryl let out a huff and tilted his head from me again, ending our conversation completely. In her sleep, Adeline mumbled something along the lines of, "Mom…stop…don't touch him…" I knew the fate of our parents still haunted her, but I didn't know she dreamt about it. She hid it very well, which I was never good at doing. If something bothered me, I made it known. I was never able to decide if that was a good or bad trait.

Before I knew it, Daryl's body had fallen limp as his eyes closed. I took my feet down from the dashboard and leaned over, peering at his face. I'd never seen him sleep before, so it felt as if I was watching some kind of rare animal at a zoo. His mouth hung open slightly, setting lose a calm snore that was much more tamed than Adeline's. His eyelids fluttered and his fingers twitched with an unspoken dream.

"Fine," I mumbled, sitting back in my seat. "I'll keep watch then."

Hours passed by as I held my gun in my lap, listening to the rain. A couple times, I had to force myself to keep my eyes open from dozing off myself. My eyes felt as if I hadn't slept in days when in reality, I'd only woken up about six hours ago. Yawns escaped my mouth more often than I would've liked and my eyelids drooped dangerously low.

I decided to take a step outside and let the rain wake me up. I regretted it as soon as I did, though. Icy wind smacked against my face, causing a painful shiver throughout my body. I could understand if this was happening in winter, but in the spring, it shouldn't have been so cold. But then again, the dead shouldn't be up and walking around, but there they were, acting like they owned the whole damned world.

The eerie stillness of the abandoned road instantly made me feel uncomfortable. I fondled the trigger of the gun as I glanced around. Twenty seconds. I would give myself twenty seconds of fresh air before returning to the safety of the car.

For miles, it seemed that walkers avoided the area completely. I could hear their snarls and groans from somewhere faraway, but I remained calm. Even if they knew my location, I would have more than enough time to wake Daryl and Adeline up before they could reach us.

I didn't even last the entire twenty seconds before the cold became too much for me to bear. I hurried back into the car, shutting the door as quietly as possible and locking it without hesitation. Curling my fingers to and from my palm, I glanced back at my still-sleeping sister. She had rolled onto her side, a trail of drool dripping onto the seat. Daryl remained asleep as well, but in a more graceful manner.

Shifting my body from him, I brought my hands to each other, trying to hold body heat in my palms as best I could. Even the inside of the car was chilly now; my nose constantly felt as if it were running even though it wasn't, so my sniffling became constant.

I heard Daryl grunt as his eyes shot open. His body instantly became rigid as he sat straight, repositioning his crossbow in his hands. "What happened?" he demanded to know as if we'd just been attacked.

"Nothing," I answered, rubbing my hands together vigorously. "You fell asleep. Everything's fine. The rain hasn't let up yet, so we still can't leave."

He seemed to relax against the seat at my words, but eyed my hands carefully. "The hell did you do?" he asked.

"I went outside. It's freezing, so it sort of feels like my fingers are going to turn to ice."

He held out his palm toward me. I stared at him in confusion until he motioned for me to place my hand in his. Once I did, he leaned toward me and brought my hand to his mouth, cupping his fingers around my skin and exhaling deeply onto my hand. I wanted to yank it from him and demand to know why he was acting so weird, but the warmth of his breath became the reason why I left my hand in place.

"When I was little," Daryl started, rubbing his palms roughly on both sides of my hand, "these asshole older kids pushed me into an icy river. I almost drowned, but Merle found me and pulled me out before anythin' really bad happened to my body. My hands hurt the most and he did this until I felt like I could move them again."

And so the cycle of breathing on my hands and rubbing them continued. I leaned my head against the seat behind me, watching Daryl as he switched between the two actions. My body felt heavy and slow. His image faded in and out. As I drifted off to sleep, I could've sworn I felt the soft press of his lips against my knuckles.

But then again, I could've just been dreaming.

* * *

><p><strong>Hello everyone! I just wanted to say Merry Christmas and I hope you got everything you asked for. My gifts consisted mostly of Daryl Dixon merch, so I guess you could say my friends know me rather well! Thank you for reading my story. It means so much to me! <strong>


	21. Choices

When I finally did open my eyes, sunlight peered down through broken clouds. I felt groggy, sweaty, and absolutely disgusting as I lifted myself from the passenger seat of our now worthless car. Adeline and Daryl were still sitting in their seats, fully awake but carrying on a lingering, awkward silence.

"What time is it?" I mumbled before covering a yawn with my fist.

"Don't know," Daryl answered, glancing up at the sky. "Probably 'bout four or somethin' like that. We need to go."

I nodded in agreement as he popped the trunk. Gathering our findings, I noted my sister's fuming glare she fixed on Daryl. She refused to speak a word, but I could tell by the way she slammed the trunk shut and stomped from us that something had happened while I was asleep – something not so pleasant. I decided against prying for the time being. That could wait until we were alone back at the prison.

A cold chill remained in the air. As a shiver ran up my spine, I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, wishing I had brought a jacket. If those assholes back at the grocery store hadn't ripped my shirt nearly in two, walking back to our so-called home wouldn't be so horrible.

"How much longer?" I asked as the sun threatened to settle over the faraway hills. The last thing we needed was to be caught out in the open during nighttime.

"Another mile or so," Daryl replied. "It'll go by faster if you stop your bitchin' though."

"I'm not bitching," I defended. "I'm just asking a question. God, what bit you on the ass? Both of you, actually."

Adeline threw me a dangerous glower but still made no sound. Daryl, on the other hand, rolled his eyes and shook his head. "She ain't gonna tell you, so I will. Adeline's thinkin' about runnin' away to join the Governor," he blurted.

My mouth fell open as I turned to her, stopping dead in my tracks. "You are?" I inquired in disbelief. "How? Why? You saw what he did. He shot up the prison. He killed Oscar and Axel, for shit's sake!"

She glanced around nervously, her blonde hair bouncing back and forth. "Be quiet, Harper," she hissed as she pulled her faces only inches from mine. I took a small step back. "I didn't say I was going to for sure. Just think about it, though. Those people have it good. They have clothes, they have food, they have _water. _And what do we have? A shitty prison, a baby that we can barely find food for, and a courtyard surrounded by walkers. We're going to die with these people. Do you not understand that?"

Her words upset and surprised me. "How can you say that?" I whispered, watching from the corner of my eye as Daryl ran a hand over his face and stepped away from us. "These people took us in. We would be dead without them and you just want to abandon them?"

Adeline threw up her hands with a sharp scoff. "Abandon them? You're kidding, right? You're acting like the entire building will fall apart if we leave. Besides," she paused to throw Daryl a spiteful look, "I didn't say I was dead-set on leaving. I know better than to tell this jackass anything ever again."

She brushed past us, her shoulder intentionally colliding with Daryl's. He gave me an annoyed stare before we followed after her.

o-o-o

As Adeline held the bottle of formula to Judith's mouth as she bounced her around the common area, I watched her from the corner of my eye. At the table I sat at, Beth and Carl chatted happily about some movie I'd never heard of before. If I didn't know any better, I would think that the two didn't have a single worry in the world.

A smile spread across my sister's face as she peered down lovingly at the infant. I couldn't help but wonder just how genuine it was, though. For being a "baby that we can barely find food for," the tiny girl seemed to be growing taller and chubbier every day. And the prison wasn't shitty. It provided us with more shelter than we could've hoped for. The walkers outside, well, they were a different story.

It seemed as though Adeline expected everything to be like our old life and somewhere deep in her mind, she had convinced herself that Woodbury could offer that.

"Harper?" Beth addressed, snapping me from my nagging thoughts. I turned my gaze toward the two and lifted my brows.

"Huh?"

"Did you hear me?"

"No, sorry. I was…thinking about something else." For all I knew, Daryl and I were the only two who were aware of what my sister could be doing. I didn't want it to be known throughout the entire prison. If Rick found out…well, I didn't even want to consider what would happen.

Beth gave a compassionate smile. "What did you think about it? The Catcher in the Rye, I mean."

I searched desperately for an answer to her question. Sure, I knew that book existed, but did I ever read it? Definitely not. "Um, well," I began, strumming my fingertips on the tabletop, "I thought it was good…you know, the way they caught the rye and made bread with it."

The two broke out into a harmonious laugh, bringing Adeline's attention toward us. She flashed me a curious glance before strolling into the cell block, humming to Judith along the way. I forced my own giggle when I realized they thought I was joking. Carl shook his head, a goofy grin playing on his lips, and stood from the table.

"I'm going to go find my dad," he informed us. Without so much as a goodbye, he set his hand on the pistol hooked on his hip and exited through the metal door.

Beth's laughter finally died down with an exasperated sigh. "You know," she mumbled as she folded her arms on the table, "I'm glad you and Adeline decided to stick around. Judith really likes your sister, I can tell."

I gave her a small, embarrassed nod. "Yeah, Adeline's always been good with babies," I explained. "I always thought she would open up her own daycare center, but uh, I guess not so much now."

"Maybe when the world is okay again," Beth replied. Her voice sounded tiny and distant, as if she was trying to convince herself instead of me that someday everything would go back to the way it was before. I couldn't help but feel some kind of pity for her.

"Yeah," I answered, my own voice nothing but a whisper. "Maybe."

o-o-o

The prison seemed much livelier than the past few weeks. Maybe it was because our run was successful and gave Carol more items to cook with, or maybe it was because half of our group was drunk. Either way, I didn't complain and I certainly didn't dwell too much on it. I was just happy that for one night, things seemed okay.

"So there he was, right?" Merle slurred, his tin can of whiskey slushing around in his normal hand. "My little brother standin' over some Mexican kid with a baseball bat in one hand and the damn tooth he knocked out in the other! Ya'll shoulda seen his dumb, tooth-missin' grin. And then…and then he starts cryin' outta nowhere like someone stole his candy right outta his hand!" He burst out into a howl of a laugh. Carl, Beth, and Maggie joined in with his laughter. Even Daryl broke out in a small smirk.

Without telling neither Adeline nor I, Daryl had snagged a bottle of the horrid smelling stuff during our run. When he pulled it from his backpack, he declared that the group should loosen up for just one night and proceeded to pour it into plastic cups and empty tin cans. Most everyone took it graciously, but Hershel, Beth, Carl, Michonne, Carol, and I shook our heads in rejection. I couldn't bring myself to drink with everything that was on my mind.

Glenn leaned over me to reach Maggie, who gave him a hazy stare. "Hey," he mumbled as he pointed to her. "You're so damn beautiful and I just…God, I love you so much."

I shrunk away from them, pressing my back into the table, as they exchanged drunken sweet nothings. Trying my hardest not to listen in on them, I focused on Adeline. Though visibly drunk, she kept to herself near the entrance of the building. She sat on the concrete stairs, holding the plastic cup tightly between her legs. As she peered down into the liquid inside, I decided that I would give anything to be able to hear her thoughts.

"Excuse me, you guys," I piped up, pressing my hands between the lovers to make a path for myself. The second I was free from their painfully cute conversation, I felt as though I was able to breathe again. The group exchanged intoxicated stories of the world before while I found myself grabbing for my gun and heading outside into the brisk night air.

If the walls of the prison hadn't been so thick, the sound of their laughter would've echoed far off into the surrounding forest. Luckily, the walkers paid no attention to our little celebration. They continued to moan and stumble by, tripping over rocks and bumping into one another. I peered through the sights of my gun, watching them in amusement.

Guilt stung me when I realized that any one of them could very well be my mother or father or even my faithful butler. Even though I knew the three of them were definitely lying dead, part of me felt as though they were like these walkers: wandering around aimlessly for the rest of eternity. God, I missed them more than anything.

"The hell you doin' out here?" Daryl demanded to know as he shut the door behind him. I blinked away tears I didn't realize were forming before turning to face him.

"Just getting some fresh air," I told him. "Everyone's so drunk that I thought nobody would notice if I slipped out."

Daryl leaned against the wall, fishing in his vest for his almost empty pack of cigarettes. He grumbled to himself as he pulled one out. "Damn, only two left." Making it look like the easiest thing to do, he pulled a lighter from his pocket, put the cigarette to his lips, and inhaled smoke as he lit it. When he noticed me watching him, he held it out toward me.

"No way," I said with a light chuckle. "We tried this, remember? It's a little too hardcore for me."

He shrugged and turned his attention to the walking dumb just outside the fence. "I believe in second chances," he replied. "Everyone's gonna screw up the first time."

We stood in silence for nearly ten minutes; Daryl smoking his remaining cigarettes and me lost in my own thoughts. Naturally, my mind drifted toward Adeline and our previous argument. Then, Andrea popped into my mind, sending a bitter churching to my gut. I still couldn't find it in myself to like her, but she had talked about Woodbury as if it were paradise.

Maybe it was. Maybe everything was great there. If Rick truly had our best interests in mind, wouldn't he want us to feel safe and comfortable? When we broke into the town, before the raid started, the people there seemed sincerely happy and content. There were walls and armed guards to keep the walkers away. Compared to our broken and fragile fence, it seemed a thousand times better.

What was I thinking? There was no way I could leave the group. They saved my life on multiple occasions after all.

"You gonna leave too?" Daryl suddenly asked as if he was reading my mind the entire time.

"What are you talking about?"

He took one long, final drag of his cigarette before dropping it to the ground and crushing it underneath his shoe. "I ain't stupid," he answered, his eyes narrowing in my direction. "And I ain't as drunk as my damn brother. You know when I left with him after ya'll saved our asses back at Woodbury? I did it 'cause he's my brother. He was always there through everything when I was growin' up. And you know why I came back?"

I shook my head slowly. "No, I don't."

"'Cause ya'll my _family,_" he replied. I knew he was drunker than even he realized, so I just went along with his words without interrupting. "I fuckin' hated these people before, 'specially Rick for lockin' Merle up on a damn roof. But they accepted me even after all the dumb shit I did and said. They're good people. I know Adeline's your sister, but this is your family."

Daryl stopped for a moment, recognizing just how passionate he'd become in his own words. He turned from me and tossed the empty cigarette box in a random direction. As I listened to it bounce against the concrete a few times before sliding to a stop, I refused to take my eyes off him.

"Family first," he mumbled, using my words exactly. "Always has been, always will be. Remember that when you choose."


	22. Negotiations

"One of us should go with them," Adeline insisted in a hushed whisper, her eyes glued on Rick and Daryl's retreating bodies. They turned a sharp corner and disappeared down an alley between two grey bricked buildings. I agreed with her; this just seemed much too dangerous for the two of them, even if the Governor gave his word to be alone.

Hershel adjusted the gun in his lap from the front seat of the car. "I need both of you here," he told us stubbornly. "Can't do much for myself with just one leg." My eyes glued on the stump he revealed as he pulled his pant leg up. A gun had been duct taped to his thigh. A small shudder ran through me when I thought about how much it would hurt if he had to rip it off.

As I opened the door of the car and stepped out onto the moist ground, I lifted my gun upward, peering through the sights to see if there was anything in the distance. The surrounding forest seemed calm and still, but I knew better than to think that for a fact.

The entire drive here, as I sat tight next to Adeline, my heart refused to return to its normal beat. Excitement and fear rushed over me. Since Andrea's return with negotiations from the Governor to meet with Rick, I was restless and uneasy. My emotions tripled when Rick told me he wanted to bring myself and Adeline with him.

"Ain't gonna do you much good to stay around here," he had explained, pointing toward Carol's garden and Maggie fending off walkers through the fence. "You and your sister are getting pretty decent with guns, so you're coming with us."

Ten minutes of excruciating silence passed, Adeline and I on both sides of the car to give warning if anything seemed out of the ordinary, before Hershel called us back in. As the doors closed, he started up the car and drove toward a different spot only a ways down the dirt road. He stopped just in time to approach Daryl, who came walking out from a rusted water tower, his stride relaxed and his crossbow gently tapping against his hip in rhythm of his steps.

"He's already in there," Daryl informed Hershel, taking a quick peek in the window at Adeline and me. "He sat down with Rick."

Hershel glanced around. "I don't see any cars. The girls didn't see anything either."

"Yeah, well, it don't feel right. Keep it runnin'."

We were only granted a second of peace before the roar of another engine echoed. Daryl hurried to run to the other side of the car and raise his crossbow while Adeline and I stumbled out of the car, readying our own weapons. A rundown, beige Ford Excursion came from the nearby yard of broken farming tools and squealed to a stop in front of us.

A Hispanic man, probably in his mid to late thirties, stepped out of the drivers' side while another man exited from behind him. This man, tall and lanky with thick glasses that had obviously been broken many times, looked nervous and bored at the same time. Andrea hopped from the passengers' side, giving us a steady glare as she approached us.

"The hell?" Daryl growled. "Why's your boy already in there?"

"He's here?" Andrea asked in disbelief. Before waiting for an answer from anyone else, she huffed loudly, rolled her eyes, and started for the direction that Daryl had come from.

I scanned the two men for any weapons. Mr. Glasses seemed as harmless as a kitten while his teammate carried a small gun in his hand. Neither of them seemed threatened by us and when Daryl lowered his crossbow, Adeline and I followed suit. The waiting game became horribly boring; Mr. Glasses took out a pen and a notepad and began writing on the hood of the car, Daryl paced back and forth, Adeline hummed a song we hadn't heard on the radio in a year or so, Hershel gave an occasional yawn, and Mr. Gun and I had a stare-down. His dark eyes bored into mine, but I didn't feel as though I was in danger.

"You going to stare at me all day or are you going to tell me your name?" I finally said, breaking the overwhelming silence. Daryl immediately stopped his pacing to watch us.

"Ladies first," the man responded, a sly smirk playing on his cracked lips.

"Harper. You?"

"They call me Martinez."

Something about the man perked my interest much in a way that Daryl did when I first met him. It wasn't that I was strangely attracted to him or that I knew he could kill me with the snap of the Governor's fingers. It was that somewhere deep down, I could feel there was something more to him than just a pawn in this murderous game of chess. When he gave me a tiny nod of acknowledgement, I knew my idea of him was spot on.

"Maybe I should go in there," Hershel suggested, obviously tired of waiting for the two men.

"The Governor thought it best if he and Rick spoke privately," Mr. Glasses said, speaking up for the first time.

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl asked. His tone sounded as if he really didn't care what the man's name was.

Mr. Glasses glanced up from his notepad, looking over the rim of his specs. "Milton Mamet," he responded before returning to his work.

"Great," Daryl mumbled, turning his back from the rest of us. "He brought his butler."

Martinez chuckled deeply as Milton replied in annoyance, "I'm his advisor."

"What kind of advice?"

"Planning. Biters. Uh, you know, I'm sorry but I don't feel like I need to explain myself to the henchmen."

Daryl took a few steps closer to the smaller man. "You better watch your mouth, sunshine," he warned.

I turned on my heel, putting myself between him and the men behind me. "Daryl, stop," I hissed. "You're the one who started it. You're being an ass."

His pulled his face only inches from mine, his eyes narrowed in a glare. "Shut it, Barbie," he retorted. I gripped my gun tightly between us. "You wouldn't even be here if it weren't for me. So quiet your bitch ass down."

Martinez spoke up as he pushed himself from the hood of their car. He words came out dangerously and smooth. "Look, buddy, if we're going to be here all day pointing our guns at each other, do me a favor: either quit talking to the lady like that or shut your damn mouth."

Daryl's eyes unlocked from my figure as he walked around me, approaching Martinez. They stood so close to each other that if one of them leaned in, they'd kiss. As they glared each other up and down, Adeline and I raised our guns. I didn't point to either of them, but I'm sure my sister rested her sights on Daryl.

"You guys, stop," I told them. "We don't need this, okay?"

"Harper's right," Hershel chimed in. "If all goes south in there, we'll be at each other's throats soon enough."

Martinez's lips grew into a mocking smile as Daryl gave him one more glare before turning back to us. I let out a relieved sigh and lowered my gun, meeting the archer's glower. Martinez, however, threw me an inconspicuous wink.

Andrea came storming out from the edge of the building. Our attention turned toward her for answers, to know what happened, but she gave Milton a defeated and angry stare before walking from us. She sat on a nearby bench and buried her face in her hands. My heart plummeted. Did Rick and the Governor come to a solution? From her body language, my guess was a definite no. When Milton attempted to approach her, she only shook her head.

"There's no reason not to use this time together to explore the issues ourselves," he suggested, his shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug.

Martinez cleared his throat and leaned against the hood of the car again. "Boss said to sit tight and shut up," he reminded his partner.

"Don't you mean the Governor?" Daryl snapped. I shook my head, turning from them to roll my eyes. Usually, I would be flattered at how the two were acting. But in this case, we were putting our lives on the line, making their attitudes annoying and immature.

"It's a good thing they're sitting down," Milton said, "especially after what happened. They're going to work it out. Nobody wants another battle."

"You call that a battle?" Adeline demanded to know. "You came in and shot up our prison."

"I would call it a battle, and I did. I recorded it." Milton held up a folded, worn piece of paper. "Somebody's got to keep a record of what we've gone through. It'll be a part of our history."

"Makes sense," Hershel commented, although I didn't agree with him. We didn't even know if humanity would survive for another month. Why waste time recording the present when you could be fortifying your future?

The two men fell into their own conversation of walker intellect and health records. Somewhere far away, a snarl sounded, followed by the banging of metal. I glanced toward Adeline, who offered to stay with Hershel and Milton, before running toward the sound with Daryl and Martinez. Andrea finally opened herself up to the world and trotted close behind me.

Between a mess of broken and empty water towers, we approached a small cluster of walkers. Daryl raised his crossbow and focused on one, but refused to shoot a bolt from it. I stopped running and watched him closely, feeling Martinez's presence next to me. Daryl lowered his weapon and motioned for the other man.

"After you," he said with false courtesy.

Martinez chuckled, raising a baseball bat that he had grabbed from his car on our way to the walkers. "No way," he replied. "After you."

"Are you kidding me?" Andrea and I snapped at the same time. She approached one of the walkers with a tiny pocket knife, delivering it right in between the eyes of a female. I yanked the bat from Martinez's hand, pushing my gun over my back, and swung it at the head of a large, rotting man. His head slammed against the water tower, exploding in a small mess of decayed brains and mushy bone.

"Pussy," Martinez hissed to Daryl from behind us. "Ain't even gonna show off for your woman?"

"She ain't my woman."

"Good."

Daryl's words hit me hard. Sure, it wasn't as if we were a couple, but I'm sure even he couldn't deny that there was something between us. Maybe it was one-sided, though. Maybe I just had my hopes set too high. As I swung at another walker, I tried to shake his voice from my mind while the two engaged in some kind of "conquering dominance by killing more walkers than the other" game.

Behind me, Andrea sighed exhaustedly and mouthed before walking back toward Adeline, "Men."

Once all the walkers were cleared out, I handed the bat back to Martinez. "Sorry I just took it from you," I muttered. The man didn't seem angry. In fact, he smiled widely.

"No worries," he replied. "You handle it better than I do. Let me guess: child softball superstar?"

A soft chuckle vibrated my lips. "Sure, we can say that."

Daryl let out a small grunt as he fished into the pockets of a walker that wore a construction worker's uniform. He pulled out a half empty pack of cigarettes and hurried to slide one into his mouth and light it. Martinez's smile faded slightly as he looked toward the smoke rising into the air.

Noticing his longing stare, Daryl held out the pack to the Hispanic, who shook his head in disgust. "Nah," he rejected. "I prefer Menthols."

Stuffing the pack into his back pocket, Daryl mumbled, "Douchebag."

"You ain't even going to offer the lady a smoke?"

"Oh, no," I started, holding my hands up. "I don't—"

"She don't smoke," Daryl curtly finished for me. I threw him an irritated stare.

"That's all right," Martinez defended, giving me a playful nudge. "I like girls who don't smoke better anyway."

I could feel heat rush to my face as I turned from Daryl. I knew this would end badly and I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I went along with it anyway. Daryl had been pissing me off the entire time we waited for Rick. He was being rude not only to me, but to Milton, who seemed as though he didn't do anything wrong his entire life. Besides, having a man I was decently attracted to be nice to me for once was nice. Why not enjoy it while I could?

"I guess it's a good thing I can't stand even the smell of them then, huh?" I asked, returning his wink from earlier. Martinez's brows raised in an intrigued way as his arm gently snaked around my shoulders.

"You know," he whispered, burying his face in my hair as he pressed his lips to my ear, "I've got a spare room back at Woodbury. You can have it if you want."

Although he meant to say it as quietly as possible, Daryl still heard it. His piercing blue eyes turned to me, demanding to know my answer. I watched him as his body turned rigid, his crossbow trembling slightly in his hands. After what seemed like hours of standing in place, observing as Daryl fell apart from the inside, I finally shook my head.

"I'm sorry," I told Martinez, "but my family is at that prison. I can't leave – I won't leave. Ever."

o-o-o

"Can I ride with you?" I asked Daryl as he started up his motorcycle. I hadn't ridden on the back of it since my first run with him. It seemed like that was years ago, when it reality it had only been about a month and a half.

"I guess," he answered in a bored tone.

I returned the wave Martinez threw at me as he drove from our group. In the rearview mirror, I could see the Governor's eyes locked on Adeline as if she was some sort of rare animal that he'd never seen before. It made me horribly uncomfortable.

As I secured myself behind Daryl, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist, I let out a sigh of reprieve. Although Rick refused to talk about the conclusion until we reached the prison so everyone would know, I felt confident that he did the right thing. Hopefully now, we could rebuild our lives without constantly living in fear that the Governor would come back with a vengeance.

I rested my cheek against Daryl's back as we drove behind the car. The purr of the engine almost lulled me to sleep if the nagging thoughts that kept popping up in my mind weren't so persistent.

"Why didn't you go with 'im?" Daryl finally asked, turning his head slightly to address me. I glanced up at his face, eyeing a tiny cut just under his chin.

"Because I didn't want to."

"Bullshit. What's the real reason?"

I took a moment to collect my thoughts. At his current state of mind, I was sure that Daryl would snap at the first wrong thing he heard. "Because," I replied, "the prison is my home. I want to help build it into something great. Because I love Judith and her little giggles. Because I like watching the dumb little games that Beth and Carl play with each other. And because…because I didn't want to leave you."

Against me, his body went stiff. Daryl didn't say another word to me, but a few minutes after my confession, his left hand left the cold metal of the motorcycle and covered my hands. I separated my fingers, allowing his to fall in the spaces.


	23. Cracks In Concrete

Daryl's hands, seemingly much stronger than I remember, lifted my shirt over my head. My eyes remained locked on his lips, puffy from the kisses I didn't quite remember. I shivered at the feel of his fingertips running down my bare sides as his lips gently caressed the skin on my neck. A soft nibble, just enough to make me melt. His fingers trailed around my back as I pressed myself to him, unclasping my bra with ease.

"You're sure you want this?" he asked, his voice husky with tease. He was between my legs now, pressing himself against me. I could feel his erection through his worn jeans.

Before I had a chance to tell him that yes, God, I wanted it more than anything, my eyelids fluttered open to my familiar cell. Realizing where I was, I closed my eyes tightly and tried to force myself back to sleep, hopefully to return to the same dream. It was no use. As hard as I tried to relive something that never even happened, it was impossible, although the odd tingling feeling between my legs told me otherwise.

I sat up on my bed, rubbing my face vigorously with my palms. I'd never dreamt about Daryl before, especially not in a sexual way. My dreams usually consisted of running from my parents, screaming for them to stop trying to eat me. Or, that everything – the walkers, the prison, the group that found us – was nothing but a dream of its own and that I was still living my old life, driving a car I never made a single payment on to Starbucks every morning.

"You good?" Adeline asked, hopping down from the top bunk. "You, uh, you're pretty loud."

My stomach felt as if it shriveled up inside me. "Excuse me?"

Giving a playful smile, she peeked out from our cell. When it was made clear that nobody else was around, she closed her eyes and mimicked me in a high pitched voice, "Oh, Daryl…Please, fuck me…Please, Daryl. I want you to fuck me. Oh, God, yes!"

"Oh my God," I mumbled in embarrassment, wishing I could erase her memory.

"Don't worry," she reassured as she lifted her dirty shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. She gave me a playful wink as she slipped on a new, cleaner one. "Everyone has sex dreams. Sometimes you can't control who they're about. This one time, I had a dream that I was doing that old man that works at that gas station we used to steal candy from."

I found it in me to smile, but it quickly faded away when I thought back to the conclusion of the meeting between Rick and the Governor. "So," I said desolately, "I guess we really are going to war with those people, huh?"

"Guess so. We should do everything we can today to get ready for it."

Standing from the bed, I nodded in agreement.

o-o-o

"Come on! Come on!" Daryl yelled, holding out his hand toward me. I backed away from the approaching walker, making sure to avoid the barbed wire we put down on the path leading up to the prison.

I turned and sprinted full speed toward the truck as it slowly began to move. The second Daryl's hand curled tightly around mine, he hoisted me into the bed of the truck. I hurried to reach behind me, sighing in relief when I found that my gun was still on my back.

We had been laying traps for hours. My stomach grumbled with hunger and my back ached from bending over so often. Although the night was a few hours away, the air was still cold and bitter. My fingertips lit up in a dull pain.

"The hell's wrong with you today?" he inquired low enough that Beth, Michonne, and Glenn couldn't hear him from the inside of the vehicle. "You're all spacey and you ain't payin' attention."

I eyed him up and down, trying to catch my breath while holding on tight to the metal so I wouldn't topple over backward. "Just…a weird dream," I told him. It wasn't exactly a lie. It was just missing every wonderful detail. "I keep thinking about it and it's getting me all jumbled."

"Dreams don't mean shit," he answered, watching as Rick pulled the gate open for us. "Just your brain playin' a movie for you when you're sleepin'."

As much as I didn't want to agree with him, I knew his words were true. "Yeah, I know," I replied softly just before we came to a stop. We hopped from the bed of the truck and double-checked to make sure that the gate was securely locked.

"If they try to drive up to the gate again," Glenn said confidently, "maybe some blown tires will stop them."

I followed closely behind Daryl as he approached Rick, who commented, "It's a good plan."

"It was Michonne's," the man in front of me informed him, as if it was a surprise that she had a working brain of her own. The two locked gazes and suddenly, I knew that there was something going on that was being kept from the rest of us.

Michonne approached us. "We don't have to win. We just have to make their getting at us more trouble than its worth."

Rick gave a small nod before herding us inside.

o-o-o

I found Merle in the boiler room, searching frantically for something that probably didn't exist anymore. I watched him for a few moments before opening my mouth. "What are you doing?" I demanded to know.

A jolt of surprise ran through his body before he whipped around to face me. "Aw, well if it ain't my baby brother's biggest fan. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" When I crossed my arms over my chest and refused to give into his taunts, he chuckled and shook his head. "Just lookin' for anythin' to give me a little buzz. Y'know, x or coke or anythin' like that. You seem like the partyin' type. Got anythin' for me?"

I rolled my eyes at his behavior. "Sorry to disappoint," I told him. "I wasn't much for partying. Neither was Adeline, so don't go and ask her." Merle grunted softly in acknowledgement of my words before yanking open a drawer. "Merle, what the hell are you doing? We're going to have a war on our hands and all you're concerned with is your next fix?"

"You're one to talk," he retorted, standing straight to face me. "The way you look at my brother is sick. Do you even pay attention to yourself? All you give a shit about is lookin' pretty in front of him. Goddamn. It's like you're some dumb, horny college bitch."

"That's not true," I defended as I uncurled my arms. My hands balled into tight fists at my sides. "I'm trying to help build this place into somewhere where we can live. Daryl is the least of my concerns." Of course it was a lie, but I wasn't going to let Merle think he'd won our argument.

He shook his head in amusement. "Y'know, when I said ya'll look at each other the same way, I was wonderin' what kind of crazy shit that would put in your head. Don't waste your time. If the girls back home didn't suit his fancy, ain't no way in hell you can. He don't give two shits about you."

"Merle!" a voice echoed from the top of the stairs. Merle raised a quick finger to his lips and squinted his eye in a cutesy wink. I glared daggers at him. "Merle!"

"Hey, little brother," the revolting asshole responded when Daryl turned the corner. His eyes instantly focused on me before turning back to his brother.

"What the hell?" he asked slowly.

"We was just about to holler back at you, weren't we, Harps?" Merle said, his voice laced with cyanide sweetness. I gave a tiny nod as I nibbled on the inside of my cheek.

Daryl paced the room casually, glancing around to see if anything was out of place. Of course, it was. Before I found him, Merle had practically torn the room apart: boxes were thrown everywhere, papers lay scattered on the floor, and almost all of the drawers in all the desks had been ripped out. "What're you two doin' down here?"

His icy blue eyes met mine, demanding an answer. I kept my mouth shut, not wanting him to know anything about the conversation between Merle and I. So, the older man answered for me. "Just chit-chattin' and lookin' for some, you know, crystal meth." When Daryl gave a disgusted scoff, Merle shrugged. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Shit'll mess my life up just when everything's goin' so great, right?"

The two fell silent, but something told me not to leave the room just yet. Daryl's eyes fell on me just before he let out a defeated sigh. "You talk to Rick yet?" he asked his brother.

"Yeah. Oh, yeah. I'm in. But, uh, he ain't got the stomach for it. He's gonna buckle. You know that, right?"

"Stomach for what?" I grilled. Merle's mouth opened in a sinister laugh.

"You mean to tell me you don't know? Damn, who else is this group keepin' secrets from? Go on, little brother, you tell her."

Daryl slowly walked toward me, towering over me like some kind of playground bully. He didn't intimidate me or scare me in the least bit, but my body took a step from him anyway. "What I'm gonna tell you…you need to keep your mouth shut, got it? The Governor wants Michonne in return for the safety of the prison. He's gonna hand her over tomorrow by noon."

My head buzzed with this information. How could Rick do something like that? Since Michonne's arrival at the prison, she'd done nothing but good for us: helped keep the walkers away, cooked when Carol felt overwhelmed, and even tended to the garden that still showed no signs of sprouting anything. It just didn't seem like something our leader would take part in. Sacrificing another human seemed below him, but then again, since Lori's death, he had become a completely different person.

"But he isn't going to, right?" I mumbled, my voice weak.

"I don't think so," Daryl responded.

"You want him to?" Merle questioned.

The archer shook his head slightly, but exhaled heavily. "Whatever he says goes."

"Are you kidding me?" I snapped, interrupting Merle's scoff. "You can't be serious, Daryl. He's going to let the Governor kill Michonne and you're just going to pretend that it's okay because Rick _says so_?" I stammered for more words, but when he refused to meet my furious glare, I knew it wasn't something he wanted to do. He knew it was wrong just as much as I did.

"Do you even possess a pair of balls, little brother?" Merle insulted, giving his brother a scrutinizing look. "Are they even attached? I mean, if they are, do they belong to you? You used to call people like that sheep. What happened to you?"

Daryl returned his look. "What happened with you and Glenn," he asked dangerously, "and Maggie?"

The words that came from Merle's mouth next sent a terrible shiver up my spine. They told me that yes, I should be afraid of this man, even though he was Daryl's brother. They were nothing alike. For some reason, that fact continued to slip my mind, but now it was carved in like cracks in concrete.

"I've done worse. You need to grow up. Things are different now."

My opinion of Merle grew darker. Just what had he done in his past? Did he drag Daryl along with him? If so, what kind of brother was he? Deep in my mind, I tried to picture Adeline and myself in their shoes, but all that came up with was the kind of static from an old television set.

"Your people look at me like I'm some kind of devil; snatching up those lovebirds like that," Merle continued. "Now ya'll wanna do the same damn thing I did: snatch someone up and deliver 'em to the Governor. Just like me. Well, people do what they gotta do or they die."

Daryl shook his head as if his brother's words meant absolutely nothing to him. Then, his eyes met mine once more as his lips formed, "Can't do things without people anymore."

The older man also turned his attention toward me. I felt tiny under their stares. "Maybe these people need somebody like me around, huh?" he suggested as if he was asking me. "Do their dirty work. The bad guy. Yeah, maybe that's how it is now, hm? How's that hit you, baby brother?"

I watched Daryl turn into a man I'd never seen before. Without Merle around, he was strong and confident in his own words. Now, it looked as though he were about to burst into tears at any moment. What had Merle done to him to make him crack like this?

"I just want my brother back," Daryl replied honestly.

Merle faltered hard, his brother's words taking him by surprise. "Get the hell out of here, man," he ordered in a fragile voice. "Both of you. Get out."

As if under some sort of spell, Daryl turned and began walking back the way he came. Over his shoulder, he called, "Harper, come on."

I followed him without question.

o-o-o

"Harper, Harper, wake up." Daryl's low hiss startled me awake. His lips moved right next to my ear.

"Wh-What's going on? Are they attacking?"

"Merle and Michonne are gone. Let's go."

"Right."


	24. Stay

As we trudged through the forest, I wrapped my arms around myself, trying anything I could to warm myself. Unfortunately, Daryl had decided to wake me up before the sun was even awake to take me on this chase for his brother and Michonne. Why he picked me, I'm sure I'll never truly understand. Maybe it was because I was there when the two were arguing the night before, or maybe it was because he actually enjoyed my company? Probably the former.

They had taken one of the cars. That much I knew. Where they went, however, was beyond me. Luckily, Daryl was a tracker and a damn good one at that. Just from the way the leaves laid on the road, he could tell that whoever was driving was trying to get away quickly and which direction they had gone toward.

"Daryl, why don't we wait until daytime?" I suggested, lifting my fingers to my mouth to blow hot air onto them. "They couldn't have gotten far."

Daryl shook his head, his casual stroll turning into a forceful powerwalk. "Nobody heard 'em open the gates," he pointed out. "Can't tell how long they've been gone. You can go back if you want."

"No, I'm already out here," I replied, as if it was a bad thing.

We continued in silence for hours. Eventually, the sun rose up from behind the mountains and I no longer felt as if my fingers were going to turn to ice. My stomach, though, grumbled with hunger. My mind began to wander back to the prison. Was Carol cooking breakfast already? Did anyone change Judith yet? Did they even notice we were gone?

"Michonne," Daryl said under his breath as he lifted a finger to point to the woman just as she stuck her sword into the head of a walker. "Michonne!"

Michonne stood up straight, her dark eyes narrowing in a dangerous glower. I tightened my grip on my gun as anxiety swirled in my gut. She took a small step away from us, holding her own weapon between her and our advancing figures. She looked unharmed and okay. Well, as okay as someone could be in a world without running water.

"Where's my brother?" Daryl demanded to know. "You kill 'im?"

Michonne shook her head. "He let me go."

"Don't let anyone come after us," he ordered. "Come on, Harper."

My eyes met the woman's as I passed her. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something about the way she watched me told me to be careful. I just wished I knew what that something was.

Daryl took off in a sprint. I struggled to keep up with him as he headed down a cracked road; he was much faster than I and before I knew it, I was gasping for breath. "Wait," I wheezed as I came to a stop. I doubled over and placed my hands on my knees. "Give me a minute."

"We don't got a minute!" he retorted. He started to say something else, but when he turned to face me, whatever he was going to say became lost. "All right. Just…hurry up. Merle could be in trouble."

I watched him as he bit his lower lip and ran his hands through his hair. Although he wasn't fatigued from running so much – which is crazy because of how much he smoked – his breathing was ragged. I could almost hear the internal screaming of worry echoing inside him.

"Okay, I'm good," I lied. "Let's go."

o-o-o

We found ourselves at a small gas station that had been completely overrun by walkers. As we approached them, Daryl shot off bolts into their heads while I rammed a rusty rebar pipe I'd found lying on the ground through them. Most of them seemed too distracted by a seemingly abandoned car.

"Merle!" Daryl hollered. The walkers turned, the sound of his voice catching their attention, and hobbled toward us. Within moments, the archer put them out of their misery.

I hurried to the car, holding my pipe tightly in my hands as I peered inside. There was no sign of Merle, but in the backseat, an infant walker shrieked and flailed wildly in its car-seat. My heart shattered at the sight. I pictured Judith in the baby's position and tears instantly came to my eyes. The door to the car was unlocked, so I carefully opened it without making too much noise.

"What're you doin'?" Daryl mumbled as he looked around my figure at the baby. "Oh. Want me to do it?"

"No, I'll do it."

My hands trembling, I lifted the pipe and stared down it at the baby's forehead. A small pink bow, dirty and ripped, hung from the mangy blonde hair that circled her rotted face. This could've been what Adeline looked like as a baby.

I counted down from three in my head before shoving it through, silencing the poor thing. Hastily wiping my eyes, I turned around to find myself at Daryl's chest. "Excuse me," I mumbled as I made my way around him. When I felt his hand press against the small of my back as he closed the car door, I almost wanted to just have a moment to cry for the child. But Merle was out there somewhere and we had to find him.

"You okay?" he asked as he walked behind me. I only nodded.

"Let's split up and search around here for a bit," I suggested, pointing toward a metal barn across the street. "I'll look around here and you go over there."

"Got it."

Once I was alone, I headed for the inside of the gas station. The smell of decaying bodies immediately filled my nose, giving my tears a good excuse to escape my eyes. With my sleeve, I covered the lower half of my face and continued on. There was nothing that could've been taken back to the prison; someone had already come through and raided the entire place. Behind the counter sat a grimy, bloody mattress, surrounded by empty cans of soup and whiskey bottles. Whoever had once lived here was either run out or killed. I didn't want to stick around much longer to find out the reason.

"Merle!" I called. "Are you here?"

No answer.

After searching the entire inside, I decided that staying any longer was a waste of my time. Hopefully, Daryl had found him by now and we could return to the prison just in time to catch the tail-end of breakfast. With an optimistic mindset, I set out toward the barn.

"Daryl?" I hissed as I lurked around another unfamiliar car. "Where are you?"

A frantic cry hit my ears like a car slamming into a deer. It felt as if a fire had started underneath my feet as I ran toward the sound of repeated yells and moans of walkers. When I finally did find the source, my breath caught in my chest. Daryl straddled a walker, delivering a knife into its head over and over again.

"Daryl!" I shrieked, dashing to him. I wrapped my arms around his and yanked him back onto me. We tumbled onto the grass, but the man didn't struggle against me. Instead, he remained on the ground, bowing his head in a fit of uncontrollable sobs. Tears dripped from his face.

My heartbeat sounded like drums in my ears as I sat up and craned my neck to look at the walker he had been attacking. The face was completely smashed in, but from the metal blade attached to the right hand, I knew exactly who it was: Merle. For a few moments, my body felt entirely frozen. Only when Daryl's cries faded back into my ears was I able to snap myself back into the real world.

"Oh my God, Daryl," I whispered as I turned to face him. My mind was hazy and scattered. It was with Merle. I wondered exactly how he could've ended up like this. He wasn't weak – I'd seen him fight plenty of times, even if it was just wrestling with Daryl like two kids hyped up on sugar.

I didn't think my actions through as my arms wrapped tightly around him, drawing him into me. Snaking my arms around his shoulders and his head, I expected him to lash out on me, pulling away in a fit of anger. Instead, he fell limp against me, his own arms circling my waist rigidly. His body trembled as if he'd just seen the most horrific thing his mind could ever muster up, which could have been the case. His tears and sweat dampened my shirt.

"Daryl," I whispered as I pressed my lips to his hair. "We have to get out of here."

"N-No," he answered, his voice weak and fragile. "I ca-can't just leave 'im."

I couldn't find it in myself to argue with him, so I just stayed there, letting him cry into me until the walkers came for Merle's body.

o-o-o

"Can I talk to you?" Michonne asked in a hushed tone. I turned and glanced at my sister, who bounced Judith happily on her knee. Carol sat nearby, making silly faces at the infant. My mind pictured the walker baby girl I killed for only a moment before I pushed her from my mind.

"Yeah, sure."

It was strange that Michonne, of all people, wanted to talk to me. It must've been about Merle. Since our return to the prison, he was the only thing on everyone's mind. As the woman and I walked toward her cell, I could hear Daryl's soft sniffles from his own corner of the cell block. When we came back, he instantly excluded himself from the group, saying he didn't want to talk about anything at the moment. With respect, everyone left him alone.

When we reached her cell, Michonne dug through the pockets in her pants. She handed me a folded piece of paper, decorated with printed flowers and clouds. It was a page from the diary that Beth kept underneath her pillow. "Merle gave this to me just before he let me go," she explained. "He told me that if anything happened to him, that he wanted me to give this to you."

Confusion struck me as I took the note. I unfolded it, squinting my eyes at the horrid handwriting. "Harps," I mouthed silently as I read, "if you're reading this, I'm probably dead or worse. Take care of my brother, will you? You're the kind of girl I always wanted him to bring home. He'll love you forever. Merle."

I couldn't help but let out a tearful chuckle. Even in death, he still worried about Daryl. His loyalty was something I learned to admire.

"Thank you," I told Michonne, wiping my eyes. "I appreciate this. I'm…I'm going to go check on Daryl."

For the very first time since she stumbled onto our group, she cracked a compassionate smile. "If you need me to make a run, just let me know."

I returned her smile before heading toward the very corner of the cell block. When I arrived, I could faintly see Daryl's figure curled up on the bottom bunk. As I opened the creaking barred door, I wished he had some sort of light. Instead, I nearly tripped over his crossbow.

"You awake?" I whispered.

"Hm."

Eventually, I managed to find his bed and sit on the edge of it. Daryl shimmied closer toward the wall to give me more space. "Are you doing okay?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," he replied sarcastically. "My brother just died and shit, but I'm good. Thanks for askin'."

As much as I wanted to be pissed off at his words, I couldn't. "I'm sorry," I muttered. "It was a stupid question, I know. I'm just worried about you." Daryl didn't respond to my comment, so I sat there in complete silence and dark for a good five minutes before letting out a sigh of defeat. "Okay, I'll leave you be."

I attempted to stand, but stopped as soon as Daryl turned and grabbed my wrist. "Don't," he croaked out. "Just…stay, all right?" His words caught me off guard, but I listened anyway. Instead of returning to sitting on the edge of his bed, I crawled in and turned to face him. I could feel his body heat radiating toward me, drawing me in closer.

"Okay, I'll stay."


	25. Loyalties

The first thing I noticed when my eyes fluttered open was that my body ached tremendously. Sharing a twin-sized bed with someone the entire night was a difficult task. Besides, I wasn't entirely used to sleeping next to someone, so falling asleep and staying asleep was hard as well. The second thing I noticed was Daryl, who remained unconscious to my left. During the night, I learned that he was a sleep-talker. His brother's face must've filled his dreams because his trembling lips mumbled over and over again, "Merle…stop…please…Merle, it's me…It's your little brother." He twitched in his sleep and often rolled from facing me to facing the wall. Even though I was exhausted from lack of sleep, I knew that once woke up, he would feel even worse.

As the sun started to shine into the prison, Daryl stirred once more before finally opening his eyes. At first, he remained silent, staring at the back of the top mattress above us. Then, so quietly that I almost didn't hear him, he mumbled, "It wasn't a dream. Merle's gone."

I couldn't think of anything reassuring or helpful to say, so I only nodded and glanced sideways at his sullen face. "Yeah."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Daryl sat up and crawled over me. Once his feet reached the floor, he stretched his arms high over his head and yawned softly. "Well, ain't nothin' left to do but to kill this motherfucker."

"That's it?" I questioned, swinging my legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. "You think killing the Governor is going to help you feel better about Merle?"

"No, I know it won't. But," he paused for a short moment, as if contemplating his next words, "when my ma died, I didn't have time to be sad. My pa sure as hell didn't take care of me and Merle, so when she was gone, it was just us. I had to take care of 'im and he had to take care of me. So, I ain't got time to be sad 'bout 'im. There's shit I got to do to keep this prison safe."

Without another word, Daryl turned his back to me, grabbed his crossbow, and left me alone in his cell. Part of me wished he would've brought up the fact that we slept side-by-side the entire night, but then again, why would he? There wasn't anything special about it. Come to think of it, even in his sleep, he distanced himself from me. The only time we touched was when he rolled over once and his hand brushed my arm.

Daryl certainly was a mystery that completely changed every single time I thought I had him figured out.

"Hey," Adeline greeted me as she peeked around the corner. "Ready to get this show on the road?"

I forced a pitiful smile and nodded, following her into our own cell. As we packed everything we owned into our small backpacks, I couldn't help but feel incredibly uneasy. "I don't know about this," I admitted. "I mean, I get that we should defend the prison when the Governor attacks today – _if _he attacks – but maybe running wouldn't be such a bad idea."

Adeline grunted as she pushed a pair of ripped jeans into her backpack. "No way," she retorted sharply. "Running is a cowardly thing to do. You think he won't just hunt us down if we do? Besides—" She turned toward me, leaning in and lowering her voice to a harsh whisper. "—it isn't too late to leave. We could sneak out right now and not have to deal with any of this."

I stared at her, waiting for her to say she was joking. Her eyes, though, penetrated me, filling me with a horrid feeling of dread. It was as if she didn't recognize me, but at the same time, knew every single detail about my entire life. Neither of those were true, but just by looking at me, she had convinced me otherwise.

"Stop it, Adeline," I ordered as I tore my gaze away. "We're not leaving them. This is our family now, and I'm going to whatever I can to keep everyone safe."

"You mean to keep _Daryl_ safe."

My hands froze in the middle of folding a shirt. "Excuse me?" I asked through gritted teeth. "What does Daryl have to do with—"

"Oh, come on, Harper," she said as she rolled her eyes. "He's the only reason why you've stuck around so long. You think you love him, don't you? It's the same situation as that kid that lived down the street from us. What was his name? That's right. Jason, wasn't it? You were so 'in love' with him and when he got a girlfriend, you cried about it for a few days then got over it. It'll be the same thing if we leave. You'll be sad about Daryl for a few days, and then you'll be fine."

At that moment, I finally realized that my sister was a completely different person. She was no longer the Adeline I grew up with, who listened to outdated music and cried at the end of the Harry Potter movies. This woman watching me like some sort of terminal patient was not my sister. She was someone entirely new: dangerous and unstable, willing to kill and abandon at the slightest sign of a threat.

Hurt and disappointed, I shook my head and jumped to my feet. "Make whatever excuse you want for me," I told her, "but I'm not leaving these people." Before she had the chance to argue with me, I hoisted my backpack strap over my shoulder and retreated the rest of the group outside.

o-o-o

"Is that everything?" Beth questioned me, eyeing my tiny backpack as I approached her. She stood at the back of a loaded car, packed with supplies and extra clothing just in case we needed to make a quick getaway.

I gave her a small nod. "Everything that I would need. Oh, and I couldn't stuff any make-up in there," I told her, feigning a tone of sadness. "Sorry."

"Dang," she mumbled as she grabbed my backpack and threw it in with the rest of the loaded junk. "Guess I'll have to wait even longer now. You okay? You look a little off today."

I was hoping that I didn't look the way I felt. My eyes seemed heavier than usual and my body felt as if it weighed two hundred pounds more. I'd even gone the extra mile to brush my hair so I would look decent enough for people not to ask questions. As I glanced toward Daryl's motorcycle about twenty feet away from where we stood, my eyes lingered on Carol's hand as she pulled him from his crouching position to his feet. Their hands remained locked for a moment before dropping. A small twinge of pain struck my heart.

"I just didn't sleep very well," I told her truthfully. "Just nervous about today, I guess."

Beth gave me an optimistic grin. "We all are, but we'll be okay."

Before I had a chance to respond to her, Rick placed a hand on my shoulder from behind, startling me. I whipped my body around to face him and studied his grave expression. "You remember what you're supposed to do, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course," I answered meekly. Since he announced the plan the night before, my position stuck in my mind like glue. "Stay down and out of sight. Shoot only when I'm sure. Don't kill, just scare."

Rick nodded and leaned uncomfortably close to my face. Beth, knowing not to eavesdrop, closed the trunk, hurried to the front seat, and drove the car to the spot we'd decided to hide them: about half a mile south of the prison. "I'm glad you decided to stick with us," he told me in a hushed tone. "Both you and Adeline. You've done us a great help."

The second my sister's name popped out of his mouth, my palms became sweaty. "It means a lot," I murmured, feeling my lips quiver as I forced them into a smile. "Thanks for keeping us."

"Where is she anyw—"

His words were cut short by the loud rumble of engines, a deafening explosion, and constant gunfire. Our attention immediately focused on the tower on the outermost gate. Smoke bellowed from it as flames escaped through the shattered windows. Below, heavily armored jeeps rolled in through the smashed fence. The people of Woodbury poked out from the intimidating vehicles, guns a-blazing.

Our prison flew into a frenzy of adrenaline. My body reacted before my mind could comprehend what was going on. Within only a few seconds, my gun was in my hands and I was sprinting toward the cell block entrance, heading for the roof. I'd only been up there twice before and the direction was fuzzy in my memory, but for some reason, I felt as if I could make the trip blindfolded.

Before I was able to enter the building, a strong force brought me to a halt. Daryl had intersected my path, gripping my arm tightly. "Don't you dare fuckin' die," he growled, his face only an inch from mine. "I ain't gonna lose you, too."

Through my racing heartbeat and heavy pulse, I managed to form a grin. "Same goes for you," I told him. Then, a thought struck me: today could very well be my last day on this earth. Without thinking or any hesitation, I lifted myself to my toes, crushing my lips onto his before tearing myself away and bolting into the cell block.


	26. Murderer

My lungs ached with lack of air as I crouched low on the rooftop. Peering through the sights of my gun, I watched as Adeline narrowly snuck out of sight and hid behind the planter as a group of three armed men strolled by. Our invaders consisted of every different type of people: different races, different genders, even young teenage kids hollered fiercely in the midst of them all. As they clamored into our territory, I focused on the man who stood in the middle of it. He held himself confidently like he was sure they would be able to take over the prison.

"Good luck with that," I whispered to myself, my lips still tingling with the excitement of Daryl's mouth against mine. Even though it had only been for half a second, my heart stilled raced when I thought back to it. Then again, that could've been the fear that was surging through my body, which trembled at every single sound of gunfire.

I put my gun in my lap as I turned and leaned against the brick wall. Although I was high above everyone else, I felt like I was the most vulnerable. How did we know that they didn't have a helicopter that could land on me and squish me? It seemed like such a silly thing to worry about, especially when everyone else could've been in trouble below me, but it was still difficult to cast from my mind.

The gunfire eventually came to a quiet as they began to realize that we were nowhere to be seen. I almost wanted to laugh to myself, but it would surely give away my spot. Rick had ordered me to stay in my location until the signal, but when was that going to happen? Time felt as if it was slinking by as slow as it possibly could. Any second now, Adeline would pull the alarm and we would be allowed to push these people away from us with the help of the walkers that we had lured and trapped in the lower parts of the prison.

Suddenly, as if some unknown force was granting my wishes, the blaring convict escape alarm sounded, causing a jolt of surprise to flash through me. I yelped and rolled onto my stomach, aiming downward at the scattering people. Gunfire rained down on them, just barely missing their feet and arms. Harder said than done, though, I realized as my own bullets flew from my gun. I found myself wanting to lift my sights to their heads when I thought back to Maggie and Glenn. Then, I pictured Daryl and Merle being forced to fight each other back in Woodbury, surrounded by a circle of walkers.

A man dropped to the concrete, his head nothing but a mess of scattered brain tissue and what was left of his skull. My fingers immediately went numb as I lowered my gun, watching in absolute horror as another woman shrieked in despair and fell to her knees next to him. She curled over his battered body, refusing to let go of his clothing when others tried to pry her away to escape.

"Oh, fuck," I whispered, scooting far away from my gun. I had killed him. I killed that man. I wasn't supposed to. Don't kill, just scare. Those were my orders, and I killed him.

When the roar of the engines faded away, I couldn't bring myself to move. I felt so sick to my stomach that I thought I would puke at any moment. For all I knew, that man could've been innocent – never murdered anyone his entire life. That word forced stomach bile into my mouth and onto the rooftop.

Murder. That's what I had done. I murdered someone. A father, a husband, a brother, a son, who knows? He was obviously important to someone, and I had taken him away from what someone forever. I was a murderer.

"Harper!" Maggie's excited voice hollered. "Come down! We did it!"

She snapped me back to reality and before they had the chance to wonder if I was alive or not, I gave a weak wave over the side of the roof, grabbed my gun, and headed toward the courtyard. A distant ringing pierced my head as I jogged down the rusty flights of stairs and made my way through the empty cell block.

Our group joined each other in a mess of smiles and high fives, but as I passed the man I had gunned down, I froze in place. Carol noticed me before anyone else and didn't hesitate to hurry to my side. She linked an arm around mine and whispered quickly, "It was you, wasn't it?" When I nodded, she pursed her lips together. "Don't think about it now; we have bigger things to worry about."

"What?" I breathed, wondering what could've possibly gone wrong. Then, it hit me: Adeline was missing. "Where's my sister?" I demanded to know as we approached the muttering group. I could feel Daryl's eyes lock on me, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

"We were just discussing that," Rick replied as Michonne handed him a piece of blue cloth. He held it toward me and as I took it in my hand, he asked if it was Adeline's. It was hard to tell; blood splattered what looked like a part of a shirt, but when I lifted it to my nose and took in a hint of vanilla, I knew it was hers. Even without showering for months, she was still somehow able to smell like her favorite lotion.

"Is she dead?" Maggie asked gently, trying not to hurt my feelings. I couldn't tear my gaze from the shirt long enough to give her an answer.

"We need to go after them," Michonne suggested, fury still burning bright in her eyes. "They could've taken her."

"We would've seen it," Glenn said, pointing back to where he and Maggie had been stationed. "She would've put up a fight, don't you think? We would've noticed a struggle."

The urge to puke again was slowly rising. Part of me knew for a fact that she wasn't dead, or maybe I just didn't want to accept that. I wanted to believe that she had been taken by the Governor before she was torn apart by walkers. My head swirled with so much fear and worry that I forced my eyes closed, feeling like I was drunk and the world was spinning around me.

"I agree with Michonne," Carol mumbled. "We need to go after them. If they did take Adeline, we can get her out of there before anything happens."

"Harper," Rick said, all eyes falling on me, "she's your sister. What do you want to do?"

My mouth opened before I could figure out what exactly we should do. "I…" Words completely escaped me. Slowly, I met each of their pressuring stares. "I don't…Can we go inside for a moment? I need to sit down."

Rick inhaled to argue, but Carol took my hand with one arm and relieved me of my gun with the other. "Of course, sweetie," she cooed. "We don't have to make a choice now."

o-o-o

I sat at one of the tables, my face buried in my hands. For some reason, as much as I wanted to, I couldn't cry. It was as if my body was empty and I had forgotten how to react to anything. Even when the group rejoined in the common area and began to talk about our next course of action, I couldn't bring myself to contribute.

"We were able to drive away the people of Woodbury," Rick informed Beth, Hershel, and Carl, who had taken shelter with the vehicles, "but we aren't sure if we've suffered any losses. Adeline is missing and we were only able to find her shirt."

A hand was placed on my back and when I lifted my head to see who it was, Beth gave me a sympathetic look. "We'll find her," she whispered. "I know she isn't dead."

Beth had an effect on people that, deep down, they believed whatever she said. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was the innocent gleam in her eyes or maybe it was that fact that she really did believe herself. Whatever it was, just her saying those eight words brought a sense of relief.

"So," Daryl said as he turned from Rick to face me, "what are we doing, Harper?"

I ran my hands over my face once more, pushing my hair back with my fingers. It felt disgustingly grimy. "I want to make sure my sister isn't dead, so we need to go back to Woodbury."


	27. You Were Loved

If I hadn't been so anxious and boiling with rage, the sound and vibration of Daryl's motorcycle underneath me would have lulled me to sleep. As we drove toward Woodbury, my body felt heavy with exhaustion, but my mind was too busy imagining the horrible things the Governor could be doing to Adeline. Every time I thought about it, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood straight. I'm sure Daryl noticed my sickening thoughts too because my grasp would tighten around his waist, making him shift uncomfortably and make some snide comment like, "Damn, girl, you tryin' to break me in half?"

The drive, it seemed, lasted years. The trees we passed began to look like clones of one another. Every so often, I would take a moment to glance over my shoulder and try to read the expression on the members of our group in the truck behind us. Rick's face remained stoic and hard. Michonne mimicked his look, lost in her own world, I'm sure. Although there was more than enough room for me in their vehicle, when we decided who was going to head out to save my sister, Daryl had promptly turned to me from his motorcycle and said, "Well, whatdya waitin' for? Get on." As much as I wanted to think it was gesture of something more than it probably was, the only thing I could focus on was making sure Adeline was safe.

"What the fuck?" Daryl murmured mostly to himself as the bike slowed to a halt. Snapping me from my daze, I peeked over his shoulder. A large army truck had seemingly been overrun with walkers. The second I laid my eyes on it, I realized that it was one of the trucks that invaded our prison, full of soldiers from Woodbury. Now, it looked as if it hadn't been touched in years.

A female sat crouched near half a dead body, greedily munching away on whatever was left. The more I glanced around, the more walkers I saw. My heart dropped when I recognized one of them: the woman who fell to her knees in a sobbing mess over the man I killed. I swung my leg over the side of the motorcycle, lifted my gun, and aimed my sights at the dead. Before I could shoot, though, Daryl lifted his hand to tell me to stop.

I wanted to argue, but when he sent a bolt straight through her head, I took a step back. My mind was clouded with anger. If everything had been okay, I would've known that my bullets would only attract more. As I watched Michonne approach another walker and slice his head into two with ease, I found myself wishing that I would've grabbed Adeline's dagger from our cell before we left, if it was still even there.

Walking around the giant truck, confusion hit us when we saw another car and a jeep sitting idle. Something had happened to these people and whatever it was, it took them out in a mass, like an atomic detonation. Assuring that all the walkers were put down, we silently stood around, looking to each other for answers.

Behind Daryl, someone trapped in the army truck slammed against the window. I yelped in surprise and immediately lifted my gun as he stumbled away. It was a woman with long brown hair and frantic eyes. We watched her for a moment as she looked to us in a pleading way. As Daryl opened the door and demanded her to come out, the rest of us kept our aim at her head.

"Please, don't shoot," she whispered breathlessly as she tumbled from the truck.

"Then you're going to answer our questions," I growled as I placed the barrel of my gun on her forehead, "or I'll put a bullet right between your fucking eyes." The tone of my voice took me by surprise. It felt as if someone was speaking for me, but finding Adeline was the only thing driving me at this point. I didn't want to admit it, but if killing this woman would save my sister, I'd shoot her in a heartbeat.

"Okay, okay," the woman said, tears filling her dark eyes. "Wh-What do you want to know?"

Rick's hand on my shoulder caused me to jerk away from the woman. His eyes narrowed at me as he murmured, "Harper, put your gun down. You kill her and she won't be able to tell us anything." I stared him down before finally lowering my weapon from her face. Then, he turned toward the woman. "What happened here?"

As she explained everything that happened after they retreated from the prison, I paced back and forth, running my hands through my hair. We were wasting so much time. Adeline could've been dead or raped or worse. Dwelling on it made my stomach twist painfully, so I forced myself to think of other things: the chocolate ice-cream on her tiny face, the way she cried when she realized she didn't fit into her size five shoes anymore, the passion in her voice when she tried to talk me into leaving the prison with her to go to Woodbury.

I froze in place, my heartbeat pounding loudly in every part of me. Why hadn't I realized it sooner? If Adeline was in Woodbury, it wasn't because she was kidnapped and forced to go there of her own free will. It was because the attack on the prison was the perfect opportunity to sneak away with them. She had been planning it all along.

"Get in the truck," Rick ordered the woman. "You're coming with us."

Daryl started his motorcycle again and looked toward me. "You comin'?" he asked. Trying to fend off the gnawing feeling of dread in my stomach, I nodded and slipped on the bike behind him. Once my arms were wrapped around his waist, he turned his head to glance back at me. "Don't worry. We'll get her back."

o-o-o

As we approached the quiet town of Woodbury, the horrible feeling inside me only doubled. The last time we were here to save Glenn and Maggie, we barely got out alive, but looking toward the guarded streets, I could tell that the dangers from before were no longer there. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

Gunfire immediately fell over us as we approached a rundown car for cover. I couldn't find it in myself to lift my weapon. Knowing that Adeline could be in there, willingly or not, struck up a new fear greater than her being captured. If I shot her the way I did that man back at the prison, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. So instead of contributing, I kneeled down against the cold metal and forced my eyes shut.

"Give me your gun," Daryl hissed in my ear as he crouched next to me.

"What?"

"I said, give me the damn gun if you ain't gonna shoot."

My hands trembling, I shifted the strap around my head and handed the weapon to him. He wasted no time standing straight and shooting over the car. Finally, the gunshots died down and the woman we dragged along with us peeked out from the side of the damaged metal.

"Tyreese!" she called. She stood and lifted her hands where he could see them. "It's me! Don—"

"Get down!" I hollered at her as I took hold of her arm. It didn't take much force to drag her down to my level; she wasn't a very large woman.

For a moment, everything was silent. Then, Tyreese's voice echoed back, "Karen! Karen, are you okay?!"

Karen yanked herself from my grasp and stood up again. "I'm fine!"

"Where's the Governor?!"

"He fired on everyone!" she explained, glancing around nervously. "He killed them all."

"Then why are you with them?!"

"They saved me!"

I heard Rick count down from three under his breath before announcing to Tyreese, "We're coming out!"

I inched around the car as I stood to my feet. Through a crack between two pillars of tires, I could see the shadow of two heads and a gun ready to fire at the drop of a hat. I glanced toward Daryl, who still held a tight grip on my own gun. When he released it to show Tyreese that we meant no harm (for the most part), I copied his movements and raised my own hands into the air. The giant wooden doors to Woodbury swung open, revealing Tyreese and Sasha, both looking terrified.

"What are you doing here?" Tyreese demanded to know as we approached them.

"We think the Governor might've kidnapped my sister," I answered, only part of me believing that. I didn't want to think that Adeline came here on her own, but it was possible.

Tyreese and Sasha exchanged a confused look. "We haven't seen her," Sasha replied. "And the Governor hasn't come back yet. He…He really killed everyone?"

Beside me, Karen nodded, a small sniffle sounding from her nose. "He did. I hid away in one of the trucks so he wouldn't find me."

"Karen told us Andrea hopped the wall going for the prison," Rick added. "She never made it. She might be here."

"My sister might be with her, too," I commented. "We need to get in here and find them."

As the two nodded in agreement, Daryl handed me back my gun. His hand lingered on the metal for only a moment, his eyes locked on mine. Then, without a word, we rushed into the abandoned streets of Woodbury.

o-o-o

The second we entered the damp hallway, I wanted to turn tail and book it. Glenn and Maggie had been held here, tortured and ridiculed. Blood stained the walls and the concrete floor, making it obvious where people had been dragged and paused to be beaten. If it hadn't been for Daryl's presence directly behind me, making sure nothing ambushed us from the back, I'm not sure if I would've stayed course and kept going.

"This is where they had Glenn and Maggie," Rick pointed out, turning toward Tyreese and Sasha. Both of them looked shocked beyond words.

"The Governor held people here?" Tyreese asked in disbelief.

"Did more than hold 'em," Daryl replied. He was so close to me that I swore I could feel his words on the back of my neck.

Somewhere further in the hallway, a dull thumping sounded over and over again. We stopped for a short moment, straining to hear over our harsh breathing before continuing. The longer we walked, the more the smell of rotting flesh entered our noses. At one point, I covered my mouth and nose with my palm, taking in the scent of dirty metal. I preferred that over smelling the dead any day.

"Its blood," Sasha whispered as we approached a makeshift door. She pointed toward the corner of it. A dark pool of blood seeped through the bottom, but it looked closer to black than the dull crimson color of normal human blood.

We hesitated. I looked toward Michonne, Daryl, and Rick in curiosity. Who was going to be the sad soul who forced the door open? When Rick's eyes met mine, I knew the answer. I was the one who needed answers, so it had to be me. Exhaling sharply, I shimmied toward the door, my gun moving in rhythm with my ragging breathing.

"One…two…three!"

I kicked the door open, raising my gun at the same time. On the ground before me sprawled out a dead man. As we hurried into the room, I recognized him as the man Daryl had called the Governor's butler: Milton. A shiver of fear ran up my spine as I turned to see who was lying against the wall. Michonne let out a weak yelp and kneeled next to the blonde.

Andrea gave her a pitiful smile, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. "I tried to stop them," she slurred as her eyes focused on a thousand different things at once. It was almost as if she was watching ghosts behind us.

"You're burning up," Michonne commented, her hand on Andrea's forehead. Slowly, the blonde peeled away the vest she wore, exposing a giant gash near her shoulder. I looked toward Milton, eyeing the blood crusted around his mouth. He must've turned and bit her…

"Judith, Carl, the rest of them," Andrea started, turning to Rick. She meant to say more, but it obviously became a struggle for her.

"Us," Rick replied. "The rest of _us_."

The look of appreciation that she gave him nearly broke my heart. I wasn't sure of her past with the group, but something about the way her eyes lit up, even though she was so close to death, told me that she loved every single one of them so much. I tried to picture myself in her shoes, being separated by the only people I had left and then only being reunited just before I turned into a walker. I wanted to cry for her. I wanted to just fall to my knees beside her and tell her that I was sorry for how I treated her before and that we could find someone to fix her, but something held me back.

"Are they alive?" Andrea croaked out.

"Yeah, they're alive," Rick answered, his own voice cracking.

Through her pain, she was able to let out a grateful chuckle. Her eyes lifted toward Michonne, who looked as if she was trying her hardest not to cry. "I'm so happy you found them," she told her. Michonne could only nod.

Then, her eyes met mine as I felt as if I was being turned to stone. "Harper, your sister…" she started, making my heart race at a million miles an hour. "You've got to find her. He talked about her. He was going to capture her. Just…find her…Even if he didn't find her, she's still in trouble. No one can make it alone now."

Although I knew Andrea didn't know anything else about where my sister could be, I still wanted to ask her so many questions. Before I had the chance to, Daryl's voice mumbled from my side, "I never could." When I turned to look at him, I met his gaze.

"I can do it myself," Andrea remarked, searching slowly for her gun. I tore my stare from Daryl's piercing eyes and watched as Michonne shook her head.

"No," she mumbled, her voice full of tears.

"I…I have to while I still can. Please?"

As Rick placed his small hand gun into her palm, a wave of mixed emotions flooded through me. I wanted to feel sad, but I was too worried for Adeline. At the same time, I felt too guilty for how I acted toward Andrea when I first met her. She had a past with the group that I could never understand or replace.

"I'm not going anywhere," Michonne reassured her. Andrea nodded, giving each of us one final glance of acknowledgement. I felt Daryl's hand on my back, gently pushing me toward the door. My eyes locked with the dying blonde's as we left them alone to say their goodbyes.

We waited outside the door for what felt like hours. Tyreese and Sasha seemed to know better than to ask what happened. My chest was painfully tight and no matter how much I paced back and forth or tried to stay in one spot so the feeling would go away, it remained persistent. Daryl leaned against the wall, his eyes downcast. Rick refused to look at either of us and when the gunshot sent a ringing in my ears, I closed my eyes tightly.

Michonne emerged from the doorway, tears streaming down her face. "Let's go," she whispered. Silently, we followed right on her heels.


End file.
